


Passions Redux 2003 - Past and Present Collide

by tessa_k



Series: Passions Redux 2003 [2]
Category: Passions (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessa_k/pseuds/tessa_k
Summary: It's July 2003 in the New England town of Harmony. In an effort to stop Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald and Charity Standish from consummating their love, Tabitha Lenox casts a spell that reverberates throughout the entire community and alters the course of everyone's storylines. This story focuses on Sam/Ivy/Grace/David. Their entangled love lives are further complicated by new supernatural elements never before seen in Harmony...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of multiple stories, all part of the same series and taking place concurrently in the same universe. The subtitles are drawn from NBC's old website for Passions, which, in its History section, demarcates the relevant plots and characters as follows...
> 
> Supernatural Shenanigans: Miguel, Charity, Kay, and Tabitha  
> Star-Crossed Lovers: Luis, Sheridan, Beth and Antonio  
> Friends and Lovers: Chad, Whitney, Fox and Theresa  
> Torn: Theresa, Ethan and Gwen  
> Past and Present Collide: Sam, Grace, David, and Ivy  
> Secrets and Lies: TC, Julian, Liz and Eve

Prelude

It's mid-July, 2003, in the New England town of Harmony. Of course life is anything but harmonious for the residents of this picturesque community.

Pregnant Sheridan Crane has been kidnapped by Beth Wallace and her psychotic accomplice, Charlie, and is being held captive in a pit in Beth's basement. Beth is currently faking a pregnancy of her own, and plans to eventually deliver Sheridan's baby and pass it off as her own. "And then we ice the blonde!" Charlie has said on more than one occasion. Beth still hasn't figured out what to do with Charlie once Sheridan's out of the picture; Charlie is in love with her, but Beth's sole ambition in recent years has been to win the heart of her high school sweetheart, Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald.

Of course Luis is currently searching for Sheridan, his long-professed soul mate. Luis has already ordered one town-wide, door-to-door search for Sheridan, only to be overruled by his boss, chief of police Sam Bennett. Despite receiving an email and later a video from Sheridan (she was forced by her masked kidnappers to send the messages), claiming to have left town for Paris, where she hopes to carry her child to term away from all the drama in Harmony. A big part of that drama: Her husband Antonio Lopez-Fitzgerald. Antonio believes Sheridan's messages and thinks Luis' suspicions are unfounded.

Across town at Harmony's tiny domestic airport, Chad Harris, Whitney Russell, and Fox Crane are boarding the Crane private jet, bound for Los Angeles. Whitney is pursuing a singing career there along with boyfriend, Chad, who hopes to make it as a record producer. Fox is going because he carries a torch for Whitney, but his excuse is he wants to get away from his family, in particular his father, Julian. The two have had an acrimonious falling out because Fox recently sold The Blue Note (Harmony's sultry jazz club) to Liz Sanbourne.

Liz is currently at the Russell home, preparing to expose her sister, Eve, who used to sing at the Blue Note many years ago. Liz is banking on Eve's past — which included more than just show tunes — destroying the now upstanding community member and physician. That Eve was once in a relationship with TC's arch enemy, Julian Crane, only makes her downfall more imminent in Liz's eyes. Liz holds an envelope containing a recent photo of Eve and Julian kissing. "I have something I think TC needs to see," she says.

As this is going on, it's a much quieter scene at the Bennett household not so far away. Sam is still struggling with the disintegration of his marriage to Grace, who he recently found in bed with David Hastings, her supposed first husband. Sam is in his bedroom, flipping through a photo album, remembering happier times. The past two years have been nothing but chaos and heartache, ever since it was revealed that Grace had been married to David before they met. And that they share a son, John.

Of course Ivy Crane, who is wheelchair bound and living in the Bennett's garage, was the mastermind behind that deception. She hired David to pose as Grace's husband, also threatening him with some mysterious piece of information any time David began to second guess his decision. Ivy is in the garage suite, getting ready for bed. She considers tipping herself from her wheelchair and calling Sam for help.

Grace and David, meanwhile, are at David's house, sharing a late meal. Grace is trying to find a way to mend her relationship with daughters Kay and Jessica, both of whom resent her for the way things have gone between her and their father. Grace is a devote Catholic, and feels it's important to honour the commitment she made to David all those years ago in front of God. The only family member who has shown her any sympathy is her niece, Charity Standish, but that's unsurprising. Charity has always had a preternaturally caring way.

In fact, it was her wholesomeness (not to mention her fair and wafish beauty) that immediately caught Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald's attention when Charity first arrived in Harmony four years ago. The two fell deeply in love, but have yet to consummate that love — thanks to the machinations of her cousin Kay Bennett and Tabitha Lenox. Tabitha, a 300-year-old witch, is determined to stop Charity and Miguel from making love, which she says would bring Charity into her full powers as a white witch. Also worth noting: Tabitha is pregnant with the child of Julian Crane, although no one is aware of this yet except Kay.

Charity is currently at Miguel's house. He's comforting her after a string of dark premonitions she had about the whereabouts and fate of Sheridan. They sit on the end of Miguel's bed, Charity leaning into Miguel's strong chest as he holds her. They begin kissing.

Downstairs, Miguel's mother, Pilar, is counselling her daughter, Theresa. They sit in the kitchen, a pot of tea steeping on the table between them.

"Mija, this has gone on long enough," Pilar says. "You need to accept that Ethan is not going to leave Gwen to be with you."

"I know, mama," Theresa says, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes shimmer with tears. "It just isn't fair. How can it really end this way?"

"Life isn't fair, Teresa. Believe me when I say I know a thing or two about that."

Theresa nods, although she's barely listening. She thinks about Ethan Winthrop and Gwen Hotchkiss, who are currently sleeping in their kingsize bed at Crane Manor.

"Teresa, you need to get away from all this pain and heartache," says Pilar. "Whitney and the others are going to Los Angeles. You should go too. A change of scenery will help you get over Ethan once and for all."

"I can't take a vacation right now. What about Little Ethan?" Theresa says.

"I will look after my grandson while you're gone. I think this would be better for Little Ethan in the long run. To have his mother in a healthy, happy frame of mind."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. If you packed quickly, you might still be able to catch them before the Crane jet takes off."

Watching this conversation from afar are Kay and Tabitha, peering into a large magic bowl of water at Tabitha's house.

"Tabitha, I don't care what's going on in Miguel's kitchen, I need to know what's happening in his bedroom," says Kay, irritably. She is eight months pregnant with Miguel's child.

"Alright, alright!" says Tabitha. "Sometimes I feel like I'm tuning an old radio with this bowl." She waves hand over the water's surface and the images change. Now they can see inside Miguel's bedroom and the sight makes Kay's eyes widen in fear. Miguel is no longer holding Charity on the foot of his bed — they have since disrobed and are under the blankets, Charity atop Miguel, rocking her hips slowly as she kisses his face.

"Tabitha!!" Kay screams. "Do something!!"

The sight has terrified the old witch, too. They are almost making love! They must be stopped, before it's too late!

Tabitha immediately sets to work. She grabs handfuls of tiny bottles and tinctures from a nearby shelf and begins pouring them into the bowl with seemingly indiscriminate haste. She's mumbling incantations under her breath all the while. Kay paces the floor behind Tabitha. Her unborn child is restless inside her. Tabitha feels her own spawn kicking and moving about fiercely in her womb.

Charity stops grinding against Miguel long enough to whisper "I love you" and then to take his sizeable manhood and put it inside her. She gasps at the sensation and he looks worried.

"Is it ok? We can stop if—"

"No," Charity says. "I don't want to stop. Just move slowly for now." And Miguel obeys. He strokes her breast with one hand, the other on her hip. The feeling is incredible for both of them, and little by little Charity and Miguel begin moving as one.

"Stop them!" Kay is wailing. "This can't be happening!"

Tabitha isn't paying attention though. She finishes saying the last line of the spell. She rubs her palms together and then———

A light issues from the magic bowl so bright that both women have to shield their eyes. A powerful yet invisible magical force follows. It ripples out from the bowl. It expands outwards through the entire town. It passes through the Lopez-Fitzgerald house, but not before touching nearly everyone in Harmony, some in greater ways than others.

At the Russells', Liz is holding up the envelope as TC and Eve watch on. She reaches in to retrieve the photograph when the wave of energy passes through her. At that very instant, TC and Eve vanish into thin air.

At Crane Manor, Ethan and Gwen sit up in bed simultaneously. Gwen has been having a difficult pregnancy, and the two are still considering moving to L.A. for the remaining two months so that they can be closer to a renown medical specialist. Gwen touches a hand to her stomach. "Ethan, something is ... different," she says.

At David's house, the pulse passes through him and Grace. The feeling startles David who jumps to his feet so suddenly that he is thrown off balance and falls backwards, smashing his head against the wall and crumpling into a heap on the floor.

At the airport, the Crane jet is taxying down the runway. The pilot is just lifting the plane up off the ground as the wave passes through it. All the control dials and lights flicker, and the plane shudders as if from sever turbulence. Whitney screams and clutches at Fox beside her, as Chad watches on.

At the Wallace household, Precious, Edna Wallace's orangutang/live-in nurse, senses the energy pulse before it reaches them. (How is it that animals are always the first to know?) She scampers past Edna and hides under a table. Beth is in the cellar with Charlie dressed in their clown disguises. Beth is leering over the edge of Sheridan's pit, ordering their captive to record a convincing message for Luis and Antonio, when the strange metaphysical force passes through them all. It knocks Beth forward, into the pit.

But most importantly for Tabitha, the spell reaches Miguel and Charity. He has not come to completion, however, Charity orgasms at the very moment the force hits them. The effect is like two trains speeding head-on into each other. A physical aftershock echoes through Harmony.

"What's happening?" Theresa screams, as she and Pilar duck for cover.

Houses across town rumble and shake. Ivy's wheelchair flips over. Grace covers David with her body, fearing that the roof might fall in on him. Beth and Sheridan watch in horror as a small fissure opens up in the dirt pit where they lie sprawled. And at the airport, huge cracks form along the runway. In fact, cracks are appearing around the entire perimeter of Harmony.

The tremor lasts only a few seconds. Except in one place: Tabitha's house.

"Tabitha what have you done??!" Kay screams, clutching her belly protectively.

"I don't know!" Tabitha confesses, shouting over the roar of the earth. Not just the earth — a sound deeper and darker and more sinister than that of an earthquake. Beneath their feet they can feel the warmth of hellfire below the house. Tabitha's magic bowl shatters, spilling water everywhere. Tabitha is stunned.

"We have to get out of here!" says Kay, grabbing one of the witch's heavily bangled wrists. "Come on!"

The house is falling apart around them as they rush past the basement door — (seconds later it explodes off its hinges, spewing flames and the stench of sulphur) — and stumble out into the front yard. Sam comes out of his house next door just in time to see Kay fall to her knees. He rushes to her, shouting her name. Kay is sobbing and holding her belly. Sam kneels beside her, trying to ask if she's OK, if there's anyone else inside.

Tabitha doesn't hear any of this though. She's standing, numb, facing her home as it is engulfed in flames. She holds a hand to her own stomach, which moments before had been round and full with child like Kay's. Tabitha's stomach is flat now, as though her own pregnancy has vanished in a puff of smoke...


	2. Chapter 2

"Kay!!"

"Daddy!!"

Sam took his daughter in his arms. They had to get away from Tabitha's house, which was rumbling and shaking, smoke billowing from the windows. Sam carried Kay across the street a safe distance. Neighbours had all come pouring out onto the street. An ash tree fell onto an awning a few doors down, mashing the wooden structure as though it was made of popsicle sticks. The street lights flickered out. Sam could hear the twang and buzz of power lines snapping not too far away.

"My baby!" Kay wailed. Sam lay her down on the neighbour's lawn. Linda, who was the home's owner, had seven children, the elder of which grew up alongside the Bennett kids. Linda knelt beside Kay and began asking questions, trying to ascertain if something was the matter with the unborn babe. After seven pregnancies, Sam trusted that Linda knew what she was talking about.

Kay wasn't sure if something was wrong or not. She didn't feel pain, but it was almost like the absence of pain was scaring her; why wasn't her child reacting? The adrenaline coursing through her body couldn't be good for the baby, right? Her heart was going a mile a minute.

"The witch is gonna get burned!" Linda's six-year-old was pointing across at Tabitha.

Sam's eyes widened in horror. Kay looked up too, ignoring her neighbour's concerned line of questioning. Tabitha hadn't followed them to safety. Instead she was walking slowly _towards_ the growing inferno that had been her house.

"Tabitha, no!" Kay screamed.

Sam sprang into action and sprinted across the darkened street. He could hear onlookers screaming. Tabitha was mere feet from the front of her house when Sam grabbed her from behind and yanked her backwards just before she could step into the flames.

"Tabitha! What's the matter with you, are you crazy??" He tugged her across the yard and then the street until they were standing with a group of neighbours. Someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, but she gave no response. The street lamps flickered on and off, casting eerie shadows up and down the street. The orange glow from Tabitha's house lit their faces when it was dark.

Black shapes moved in and out of the smoke over Tabitha's house. Sam shivered. They almost looked like spirits or demons. Kay, however, knew those weren't tricks of the light. She watched them vanish into the night wondering if those were "the boys in the basement" Tabitha so often referred to.

"I called an ambulance," Linda told Sam. "It doesn't sound to me like there's anything too serious with Kay and the baby but obviously I'm not a doctor or a nurse."

"She and Tabitha no doubt inhaled some smoke," Sam said. "You made the right decision." Sam looked up the street. He could see rivets had formed in the pavement. "Do you think this was an earthquake?"

"It certainly felt like it," said Linda, trying to corral her youngest two, who had began play fighting. It was as if the apocalyptic scene across the street had already bored them.

Kay said nothing. If Tabitha's spell had caused this much destruction at the epicentre, what would it mean for their target, Charity and Miguel? She leaned over to Tabitha and whispered, "What did you do??" But the old woman said nothing. She simply stared ahead blankly at the burning rubble that had been her home. Occasionally they heard wood splintering, followed by a burst of sparks.

"Gosh, I hope the fire doesn't spread," Sam said, looking at his own house. Then it hit him. "Ivy!"

He sprinted back to his house.

"Daddy! Don't go!" Kay said, but he didn't look back. It was her first impulse; she didn't want him leaving her side for _Ivy_.

Sam burst into the house shouting her name. He made a beeline for the door to the garage suite where Ivy was staying. Grace hadn't been pleased with that setup, but what did Grace expect? That they throw Ivy out onto the street when that's exactly what Julian had done to her following their divorce?

"Ivy!"

She was lying face down, sprawled on the floor. She was wearing her pyjamas. Her motorized wheelchair was on its side.

"Ivy! Talk to me!" She was dead! A surge of panic went through him. More than panic, he felt... heartbreak. Ivy had been his first love. She was the mother of his son, Ethan. As much as he had despised her for her lies and deceptions and manipulation, in that moment he realized that in spite of it all, there was still some part of him that loved her...

Her hand twitched. "You're alive!" There was no response, but he checked her pulse again and now could detect a beat where before he'd felt nothing. Outside an ambulance's siren could be heard coming up the street. "Hang in there, Ivy. Help is on the way!" He lay her down gently again and then ran outside. The ambulance was parked in front of Linda's house and Kay was being loaded onto a stretcher. Sam shouted for them to wait. He explained to the paramedics that there was another injured person in his house.

"Daddy, there's not going to be enough room," said Kay.

Sam ignored her, as did the paramedics. Her condition was far better than Ivy's. Tabitha, too, seemed to be doing ok although remained speechless. Kay reluctantly vacated the stretcher so they could wheel it over to the Bennett's garage.

"You clearly care more about your lover than you do your own unborn grandchild," Kay griped.

"Kay, be reasonable! We're all going to get to the hospital together. This is an emergency, try not to be so selfish."

Kay frowned but said nothing. She wished Tabitha had backed her up. Kay turned her attention to the witch. Tabitha had become an unlikely ally — friend, even — in addition to housemate. Tabitha hadn't been too pleased when Kay invited her to live next door, but at that point Kay had been wholly unwilling to share a roof with her mother.

"Tabitha, talk to me. It's going to be OK, you're going to rebuild."

Tabitha said nothing. Kay had yet to notice that Tabitha's baby bump was gone.

"Alright ladies, all aboard," said one of the paramedics when they returned and prepared to load Ivy into the back of the ambulance. "Sorry sir," he said to Sam. "There won't be enough room for you to ride along with us."

"That's OK," said Sam. "I have my cruiser. I'll follow behind." Now he touched Ivy's face. "Hang in there Ivy." He kissed her forehead and then the paramedics pushed the stretcher into the vehicle. They helped Kay and Tabitha into the back as well, then shut the doors. Normally one of them would ride in back but there wasn't even enough room for an attendant. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

When it was just the three of them, a smile came across Ivy's face. She opened one eye and then shut it again, but not before Kay noticed.

"You!" said Kay, angrily. "She's fine!! She's alright! She's just faking!" But the siren was blaring and there was no way the paramedics in the cab could hear her. Ivy remained motionless. Kay was seething. She hated her mother for always choosing Charity's side over hers, and so was glad that Ivy had orchestrated the break up of Grace and Sam. But that didn't mean Kay wanted her father to end up with someone as twisted as Poison Ivy Crane.

Kay wanted to shake Ivy until she reacted, but at that moment Kay felt a kicking in her stomach. A sense of relief washed over her. "It's ok," she whispered to her stomach. "Everything's going to be OK."

Meanwhile Sam was just about to get into his car when his phone rang.

"Dad? Are you there?" It was Jessica.

"Thank God," said Sam. "I was just heading to the hospital now. I wasn't sure how to reach you. Are you with Simone?"

"Yes dad, I'm with Simone. We were at the beach for a bonfire with Reese and John when everything started shaking. Mom just called John to say that his dad was injured and she's taking him to the hospital."

"I'm on my way there now. Your sister and Ivy just left in an ambulance."

"Are they ok??"

"Kay and the baby don't appear to be injured. Ivy..." He trailed off. He knew his daughters did not trust Ivy, and he didn't want to upset Jessica unnecessarily by bringing her up.

"Should I meet you there?" Jessica asked.

"It's probably going to be chaos over there. You guys stay put. No, get away from the beach. Get to high ground. If this was an earthquake, it could mean a tsunami's coming."

"We'll go to the Russells' house."

"Perfect. Stay there. I'll come and check on you when things have died down, ok?"

"Sure thing. I love you, dad."

"I love you too, Jessica."

Where would he be without his youngest daughter? While Kay was perpetually getting into trouble and forever warring with him and Grace, Jessica had always been mature beyond her years.

Sam snapped his flip phone shut and stared down at it. So Grace had called John about David's injury but clearly hadn't seen fit to call _him_  and let him know she was alright. He could feel himself getting hot under the collar. She truly had forsaken him for her first husband.

"No," he said aloud, trying to shake off the emotions welling up inside him. Now was not the time. He needed to be at the hospital for Kay. Then he needed to put the town above his own interests. He was the chief of police after all. He jumped into his cruiser and turned on the lights.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam paced the floor. He was waiting for word from the doctors about Kay. She was under examination. Ivy, too, was undergoing tests somewhere. Sam tried not to think about her. He was here for Kay, not Ivy. He kept telling himself that. Eventually Luis arrived with the shocking news that Sheridan Crane was not in Paris after all — she had been in Harmony this entire time. Luis had found her abandoned in a backyard, unconscious and covered in dirt. The revelation shook Sam to his core. How could he, as chief of police, have missed this? He thought about Luis' insistence that Sheridan was somewhere in Harmony. He thought about how he'd called off Luis' door-to-door search... Maybe Sheridan could have been saved whatever awful treatment had befallen her if Sam only took his deputy's advice...

Grace and John had arrived before Luis. They were in the waiting area too.

"I was glad to hear you're alive," Sam had said to her coldly. "I'm sure your daughters would have appreciated a call, too."

The words had clearly stung Grace.

"I tried calling Kay at Tabitha's but the line was disconnected. And Jessica doesn't have a cell phone, so how was I supposed to reach her?"

"Tabitha's house has burned to the ground."

This revelation stunned her.

"You could have called _me_. Grace, did it even occur to you that _I_  might be worried, too?"

"I... It's not that I didn't think of you, too, it's just... It was an emergency, Sam. Everything happened so quickly."

"Well, I hope your husband pulls through," he said, unconvincingly. He turned his back and walked to another part of the room.

"Sam! That's not fair."

"Save your breath, mom. He's not ready to hear this right now," said John.

Grace looked at Sam longingly. She wanted to go to him. The feeling of being torn had never been stronger, between the man she'd married and the man she _thought_ she'd married. Grace might not have any memories of her life with David but there were moments when she thought she got flashes of that long ago time before her amnesia.

Grace had been just twenty years old when she awoke in a Boston hospital stinking of smoke and remembering nothing of how she got there or who she was. News that Tabitha's house had burned down took her back to that time, when an apartment fire separated her from her twin sister, Faith. For so many years Grace had sought to piece together her past but every possible lead wound up being a dead end. Meeting Sam and starting a life in Harmony had helped put the past to rest. Or so she thought.

"Mom," said John, snapping her back to reality. "You were staring off into space."

"Oh I'm sorry. I was just thinking about your father and hoping everything's OK with him. Are you alright? You seem antsy. Who are you thinking about?"

"I'm not antsy and I'm not thinking about anybody," he said defensively.

When a doctor finally emerged with Kay, relief washed over Grace.

"Daddy! Thank you so much for being there," Kay said, hugging Sam. He was slightly taken aback, given how angry she had seemed at him earlier for putting Ivy in the same ambulance as her, but he was pleased all the same and wasn't going to question it.

Grace tried to give Kay a hug too but her daughter brushed her aside, instead going to Tabitha of all people! Grace knew the old woman had formed a grandmotherly relationship with Kay since taking her in, but that didn't make the slight any less hurtful. Grace had tried speaking with Tabitha in the waiting room, hoping to maybe glean some advice about how to make inroads with Kay, but she received silence from her elder neighbour.

'Ex-neighbour,' Grace thought, her mind flashing to the home she now shared with David. It didn't feel like a home. Not yet.

"Take us home, daddy," Kay said, clutching Sam by the arm. Grace again felt a stab of jealousy. Only now that Grace was gone did Kay think of their house as "home". A home that Ivy had weaselled her way into...

"Sure thing, baby," Sam said. "Tabitha, obviously you can stay with us until your house is rebuilt." He then turned to Luis. "Once I have them home, I'm joining the rest of the guys out in the field. We need every man out there."

And then, before she could stop herself, Grace muttered: "You're not going to be come back to check on Ivy?"

"No, Grace. I'm not. Our son Ethan is here. And anyway, I'm not here as her lover or ex-lover. I wish I could say the same about you and David."

Before Grace could respond, Sam helped Kay and Tabitha to their feet and the three left the waiting room. John touched her arm, startling her. She hadn't noticed he was there.

"Don't let him get to you."

"Thanks John," she said wearily.

"Mrs. Hastings?" came a voice from behind them. At first Grace didn't turn until she realized that was her. She still thought of herself as Grace Bennett.

"Oh, that's me," she said absently.

A nurse had come for her and John. "Your husband is awake, ma'am," the nurse said.

Grace was glad to leave the waiting area. Beth, Mrs. Wallace, and that bizarre monkey had arrived and the room was getting noisy.

"Grace," said David, a smile coming to his face the moment she entered the darkened hospital room. It made her heart flutter to see him alive and well. She hadn't known what to expect when he hit his head and lost consciousness. She and John hugged him from either side of the hospital bed.

"David suffered a concussion, so he's going to be sensitive to light for the next few days," explained the doctor. "But he should be OK to leave with you two when you're ready. I'm sorry to run away like this, but there are a lot of people waiting for my help. We're also short on space..."

"We understand, doctor," said David, moving to get out of bed.

"David, slow down," said Grace. "Doctor, are you sure this is a good idea?"

The physician was almost out the door. "Yes," he said, hurriedly. "I've already given David instructions. Strict bed rest for at least a week. Once you get him home, I don't want him out and about for seven days."

"And one more thing, doctor," Grace said before he could leave. "Is Eve Russell here?"

"I can't imagine why she wouldn't be," he said. "This earthquake has caused quite a few injuries. I haven't seen her yet, but she's here somewhere."

Grace had hoped she could see her best friend before they headed home, but she could see now that was an unreasonable expectation. She nodded and the doctor was out the door before anything could hold him up longer. Grace handed John her car keys.

"Bring it around front and we'll meet you there."

John nodded and was gone in a flash.

When they were alone, David moved again to get out of the bed. His motions were slow but he didn't seem overwhelmed by the activity. He took off his hospital gown and Grace looked away instinctively. David gave a soft chuckle.

"It's ok Grace. It's nothing you haven't seen before. John's living proof of that."

She blushed.

"Sorry, David. There are still moments I forget."

He had the body of a man half his age, with a deep tan and hair across his firm pecs and abdomen. Sam's torso had always been so smooth by comparison, which she'd liked. Still, she couldn't help but feel herself getting turned on by the sight of David, even in his weakened state. He struggled to pull on his underwear, a tight pair of black briefs.

"Here, let me help you," she said, worried he might exert himself too much. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I hate having you see me like this." She ignored the remark, pulling his underwear up past his knees, then grabbing his pants and put them on him, one leg at a time. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," she said. "There's just been so much commotion, and I didn't know what had happened to you or if you were going to be—"

"No, I mean are you alright. You seem like something's the matter. Is it Kay? Jessica?"

Now it was Grace's turn to chuckle quietly, although it was a mirthless sound.

"Jessica is fine. Kay on the other hand... Well, Kay is Kay. She's fine though. The baby too. She left here with Sam not long ago."

"Ah. I see." David stopped fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and looked her eyes. She avoided his gaze though and began doing the buttons up for him instead. "Sam was unkind to you."

Grace sighed. It seemed that in spite of their many years apart, he could still read her better than she realized.

"I don't want to get into it. Can we just home? You and all my children are safe. That's what matters to me."

David nodded.

"Of course Grace."

He took her arm and followed her out, closing his eyes to protect them against the harsh florescent lights overhead. When they passed through the waiting area, Ethan and Gwen were there, still waiting on news of Ivy. She gave them a polite wave and they both smiled at her and David encouragingly. As much as Grace might resent Ivy, she could never hold it against Ethan, who had grown up to be an honourable man, in spite of his mother and Julian's... shortcomings.

"Good," said Ethan to Gwen, when David and Grace were gone. "Grace looked so worried before. I'm glad David's injury wasn't anything major."

"Probably a concussion," Gwen observed.

"We should get you home, too," Ethan said. "I know you're out of the woods, but I won't feel better until you're back at the Crane mansion and resting."

Gwen shook her head. "There will be plenty of time for that in L.A."

"L.A.?"

"Dr. Abel. The pregnancy specialist. I feel like we got lucky tonight, but I don't want to risk anything else potentially going wrong between now and when this baby is born."

He nodded, knowing that as much as he wanted to remain in Harmony close to his mother — her prognosis still unknown — he also needed to think about his wife and their unborn child.

"But we can't go _this second._  I still don't know anything about mother's condition."

As if on cue, the same nurse that had retrieved Grace approached them, clipboard in hand. She was smiling. In fact, she looked excited.

"What is it??" he asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.

"Ethan Winthrop, you can come this way. Your mother is.. Well, I'll let you see for yourself."

Ethan and Gwen exchanged perplexed looks but followed the nurse right away.

"It's a miracle. I don't know how else to say it. Dr. Ross said it may have something to do with the way she fell during the quake. A twist in the spine or maybe just the impact — I'm sorry, I'm speaking out of turn. Dr. Ross can tell you more."

"Is mother awake??"

Now the nurse just smiled again. They had reached a hospital room. The nurse gestured with an open palm telling them to enter.

"Mother?"

Ivy was seated in a wheelchair, hands folded on her lap.

"Mother!"

Ethan ran over and knelt beside. "You're alive! I was so worried!"

"I'm not just alive..." Ivy said, unable to contain herself. And then, without another word to prepare Ethan or Gwen, Ivy got up out of the wheelchair. Both her son and his wife stared agape, neither able to find the words for an adequate response.

"... I can walk!"


	4. Chapter 4

The weeks that followed were a busy time at the Bennett homestead. It was a full house with Jessica, Kay, Charity, Tabitha, _and_  Ivy all living with him under one roof. But Sam welcomed the distractions at home, given how busy he was at work. Ivy had showed up on the door step — standing! Walking! — and asked if she could continue staying in the guest suite. She'd managed to finagle some money from her father, the former governor of Maine, with which she could pay Sam rent on the garage unit she'd already been staying in for free. Governor Harrison Winthrop had been the one who stood in the way of Sam and Ivy's relationship when they were young, and Ivy made sure, during a visit to her parents' Augusta mansion, to omit any mention of the fact that she'd be using their money to stay with her former lover.

For his part, Sam welcomed the extra bit of cash to help cover costs now that he had two extra mouths to feed. There'd be one more to think about, too, when his granddaughter was born. Sam would never admit it, but now that Ivy could walk again it meant she would be able to help out around the house; she had offered, and given the long hours he was putting in at the station, having her help was going to make life much easier. Of course Kay had protested vehemently about living with Ivy but eventually relented when she realized Ivy's presence would undoubtedly get under Grace's skin.

Following the earthquake in July, Sam and the rest of the police department faced the mysterious disappearance of three of Harmony's most prominent citizens: Alistair Crane and Eve and T.C. Russell. While Sam was confident the loss of Alistair would mean a drop in criminality, the Russells going missing was an absolute tragedy for the town. It hit Sam especially hard because T.C. was his best friend. Sam and his officers had investigated every tip, every rumour or clue as to where they'd gone. He interviewed Simone and Liz on multiple occasions, and had also begun a covert investigation into Julian Crane, suspecting that Julian might have killed Alistair with the goal of taking over Crane Industries. However, Alistair's lawyers were keeping tight lipped about whether or not their boss was even gone, insisting they were merely following orders he'd given them in the event of any "prolonged absences". This meant that Julian retained his subordinate position to the company's board of directors, who now acted in Alistair's place for the time being. Sam even questioned Sheridan, thinking that maybe she had something to do with Alistair's disappearance, after everything the man had done over the years to prevent her from being with Luis. Of course, Sheridan had been kidnapped at the time of the earthquake, and even with Alistair gone she had nothing to gain financially because of a hold on all her funds that could only be lifted by Alistair. (Or in the event that his death was confirmed.)

There were nights when Sam woke up in a cold sweat, thinking about Eve and T.C. He had visions of them falling into a crevice, several of which had formed around town due to the quake. Sam had considered sending a search crew into the sinkhole that had swallowed the Wallace house. Maybe Eve had paid Beth a house visit, who (in Sam's mind) _was_ pregnant, and ... brought her husband along? No, Sam knew it made no sense, and after interviewing Beth and Mrs. Wallace, it became obvious that no one else had been in their house at the time of the earthquake. On the nights when Sam had these dark dreams about Eve and T.C. falling into a black abyss, he'd toss and turn, unable to sleep again. He'd touch the empty space beside him in bed and wish that Grace was there to fill it.

Ivy, for her part, would be in her suite, wishing she was upstairs occupying that space. She decided she was going to have to play the long game to get back into Sam's heart. And bed. Her extreme measures — most notably hiring David to pose as Grace's long lost husband — had taken her far. She didn't want to upset everything by moving too quickly now. This also meant taking whatever abuse Kay threw her way. Kay knew the truth about David, and in the past had come close to revealing Ivy's secret. However, the animosity Kay harboured for her mother was still strong enough to keep that risk at bay. There were times when Tabitha, who had slowly been coming out of her silence, seemed to know more about that situation than she should have, but she never said anything that definitively suggested she was aware of Ivy's scheme.

Tabitha had always seemed like a kindly old woman. Eccentric, yes, but harmless. As she slowly recovered from the shock of losing her house, a new darkness had crept into her mannerisms and comments. Ivy and Sam both noticed it, despite Kay's protestations that they were judging Tabitha unfairly. "The poor woman lost a lifetime of possessions and memories," Kay said once, when Sam and Ivy mentioned Tabitha's extra-peculiar demeanour. "Can you blame her for being traumatized?"

Construction had started on Tabitha's new house, but it was slow going. The company she hired only worked in the evenings, after dark, and although no one ever saw workers on site, every morning a little more of the building would be complete.

Grace periodically found excuses to drive past the Sam's house, noting the progress on Tabitha's re-build as she went by, but she never stopped by unannounced. She tried repeatedly to speak with Kay, to try to see if she needed any support in the lead-up to her baby's due date in mid-August, but Kay always turned her down. David tried to encourage Grace that one day Kay would come around, but it was hard for Grace to imagine that happening so long as she remained true to her original wedding vows. As time went on, she could feel herself falling deeper in love with David. He told her all about their first meeting, about the road trip they took across the U.S. when he was first trying to make a name for himself as a photographer in North America. He told her about how well he and her twin sister, Faith, had got along. He had been back in the U.K. bringing their infant son, John, to visit his family when Grace was "lost" in the apartment fire. When he tried to track down Faith, she'd disappeared. (Grace had learned from Charity back in 1999 that dark forces had pursued her and Faith for many years, which is why Faith moved them so frequently and cut off contact with everyone from her previous life.)

David's stories filled Grace with heartbreak, but also made their love that much more real and rich. Sometimes she thought she was having glimmers of memories from that time, which was exciting and encouraging for her. It secretly pained David to see her hopes rising that maybe some of her amnesia would clear up now that they were "back together." All his stories were complete fabrications, and although there'd been a time when he threatened Ivy, saying he'd expose the whole charade, now that he had fallen in love with Grace, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. Instead, he tried to stop bringing up the fake stories he'd invented and start focusing on the future.

He took a job as a photojournalist at the Harmony Gazette. He encouraged Grace to think about reopening her B&B and craft shop, using their home. She liked the idea. It gave her something to pour her time and attention into. She also wanted to be there for John as much as possible, to try to be the mother she'd missed out on for the first 20+ years of his life. He was always appreciative and kind to her, but there also seemed to be something he was holding back. She wondered if he was seeing anyone, maybe Simone Russell who he was spending a lot of time with, but John denied it. She even asked if he was gay, insisting that it was OK with her if he was, but he denied that, too, with a laugh.

Simone often came to their house for dinner, and Grace felt she was falling for John, even if he didn't return the feelings. She decided to back off, though. Simone was suffering more than anyone in Harmony since the earthquake, both her parents having disappeared on the night of the disaster. Every night Grace prayed for her best friend's safe return. Grace angrily dismissed the rumours that Eve and T.C. had left town together to start new lives somewhere else. She knew her friend better than that. Besides, Grace's extra-sensory perception — her Standish gift — told her that they hadn't died. But where were they? Grace hadn't ruled out holding a seance with Charity to try to locate them, but for now she didn't want to do anything that might interfere with Sam's investigation.

x x x

Several days before Kay was due to have her baby, she came into the kitchen while Sam and Ivy were finishing up their breakfast.

"Can I get you something, Kay?" asked Ivy, standing up. Ivy was used to being served breakfast, but her efforts at ingratiation were paying off; she made a wicked omelette and could even pull off French toast or waffles if the occasion called for it.

Kay shook her head. She felt different than she usually did upon waking up. This wasn't morning sickness.

"Something's wrong," she said, holding her stomach. There was a sharp pain and kick from the baby. Suddenly she felt warmth spreading down the legs of her loose pyjama pants. "My water just broke!"

Sam bolted to attention. He was prepared. They had a grab-and-go bag packed for this very potentiality, filled with a change of clothes and everything Kay and the baby might need while she was at the hospital. He had butterflies in his stomach, but tried to keep cool.

"Let's go, Kay!"

"Daddy, at least let me change my pants." But then she felt another pain. She gasped from the shock of it, lowering herself to her knees, hoping she could will herself not to have the baby yet. "It's too early!"

"It's alright, Kay," Ivy said, genuinely trying to reassure her. "My daughter Fancy came two weeks ahead of schedule, and everything was fine in the end."

Sam had already run out to the car and got it started, putting the bag in the back seat. He knelt beside Kay and when she was ready, helped her to her feet.

"Daddy..." She leaned against him for support as they made their way to the car.

"Ivy," Sam said as he and Kay left the house. "Grab my cell phone, I left it on the counter."

Ivy paused where she stood in the kitchen, glancing over at the phone. He would probably want it to call Jessica. And Grace...

Minutes later, all three were in the car, en route to Harmony Hospital, Kay groaning and trying to take deep breaths the entire way. When they got there, Sam explained to an attendant that his daughter was in labour and needed to be seen right away. They were given a room to wait in and soon a doctor was checking Kay. "Yup," the doctor said. "This baby wants out! Let's get you into the delivery room."

"Daddy, can you come in with me? I don't want to be there alone. And can someone please call Miguel?? He needs to be here!"

Sam reached into his pockets to get his phone.

"Shit. Ivy, did you take my phone?"

"What?" she said, feigning surprise. "Oh no, is that what you were saying? I didn't hear you! Is it back at your house?"

"Damn. Yes, it is."

Kay groaned.

"We should get moving on this right away," the doctor said. "You make your calls, sir, and we'll be in delivery."

"No!" Kay protested. "I don't want to go without my dad."

Sam thought about asking Ivy to call Jessica, Grace, and Miguel, but he knew that receiving those first two calls from Ivy would likely add a whole layer of drama to the day that none of them needed right now, least of all Kay.

"I can get some one at reception to call your family," offered a nurse. "What are the numbers?"

Sam's mind was blanking. He'd purchased Jessica a cell phone after the quake, not wanting her to be without one again in case of a future emergency. And he'd memorized Grace's new number but it wasn't coming to him now.

"Here," the nurse handed him a piece of paper. "Sometimes it's easier to just write them out."

He liked this woman. She didn't seem at all flustered or anxious, and she knew exactly what to say. Sure enough, the pen and paper worked. He scribbled down Jessica and Grace's phone numbers, handing them back. "Ivy, will you call Miguel?"

"Absolutely," she said with a nod.

And with that taken care of, Kay relented and she went with the doctor and Sam to give birth. The nurse tucked the slip of paper into the pocket of her scrubs and then went to collect a few instruments from a nearby drawer. As the nurse was leaving, Ivy watched the paper fall from her pocket, unnoticed. An idea immediately came to mind. Ivy grabbed it off the floor, then took a pen and paper from her purse and hastily recopied Jessica's phone number. In place of Grace's number, Ivy wrote her own cell.

"Excuse me! Nurse!" Ivy ran after her down the hall, meeting her at reception. "You dropped this!"

"Oh thank you! I was wondering where I put it!" The new note was handed off to reception, and then the nurse headed for the delivery ward. A smile crept across Ivy's face. She stepped outside the hospital and then took out her cellphone. Sure enough, a call came in moments later.

"Hello ma'am," said the receptionist on the other end. "I'm calling because your daughter, Kay, has gone into labour. Your husband is with her now and asked me to call—"

"He's not my husband!" Snapped Ivy, doing her best Grace impression. (Although truthfully, it was hard to imitate a spiteful Grace.)

"I... I'm sorry, ma'am. _Kay's father_  is in with her for the delivery."

"Well? What are you calling me for?"

"Because ... I mean, don't you want to be here?"

"I'm busy right now, I've got more important things to spend my morning on. I'll get here — I mean, there — when I'm able. The baby's coming one way or another, so I don't see what difference it makes having me around."

"Are you sure, because I think—"

"Yes I'm sure!" And with that, Ivy ended the call. Now she phoned Pilar and informed her that Kay was giving birth. "You're about to be a grandmother again," said Ivy to her former maid and confidant. "Kay obviously wants Miguel to come right away."

"Absolutely," said Pilar, excitement in her voice. "I'll get him and we'll be right there!"

Meanwhile, the receptionist phoned the nursing station with the message from "Grace". Ivy went to the waiting room and was soon joined by Pilar, Miguel, Charity, and lastly Jessica, who had been in class at the local college when she got the call. Miguel, looking anxious but determined, went in to the delivery room and took Sam's place. Ivy and Jessica immediately went to his side when he emerged.

"Kay's having quite the struggle in there..." he said sorrowfully.

Pilar made the sign of the cross and quietly said a prayer.

"It's going to be ok, daddy," said Jessica.

"It's natural for you to feel this way," said Ivy. "The last time you would have been in a delivery room was ... I guess when you were born, Jessica."

The youngest Bennett smiled and nodded. She was starting to come around to Ivy.

"Where's Grace?" asked Sam.

The attendant at the nursing station cleared her throat awkwardly. "Grace is, um, not coming..."

"Excuse me?"

Reading off the piece of paper, the attendant said: "Busy right now ... More important things to spend do this morning ... Will get here later. Baby's coming either way so makes no difference." She winced apologetically.

"Wow," said Jessica. "Mom really has moved on from our family. Can't even be bothered to come for the birth of her first grandchild."

"I'm sure _you_ had nothing to do with this, Ivy," whispered Pilar.

"I have no control over what that woman does or doesn't do," Ivy whispered back, then moved closer to Sam, putting a hand on one of his sizeable biceps, squeezing it gently through his shirt. "This is a joyous day, let's not let anything get in the way of that."

Sam nodded, steeling himself against the sadness welling up inside him. If Grace's decision hadn't been abundantly clear already, it sure was now.

Charity expressed shock and dismay at her aunt's cavalier attitude about the birth. Charity had a profound loyalty to Grace, after all she'd done for her, but this was hard to defend. She'd ask Grace about it the next time they went for coffee, a tradition they'd started in recent months but which Charity had been careful to hide from Kay, knowing full well her cousin would not approve.

After what seemed like an eternity spent waiting, the doctor emerged.

"How is she??" Sam asked, as they all crowded around for word on Kay's status.

"It was touch-and-go for a little while in there, but I'm pleased to say Kay and the baby are doing fine. Mr. Bennett, would you and your wife like to come meet your granddaughter?" He looked to Ivy when he said this.

Sam and Ivy laughed awkwardly.

"This isn't my wife. Ivy's a ... friend." Sam winked at her when he said this and she felt her heart skip a beat. Sam was glowing, he was so thrilled. Jessica and Pilar were eager to go with the doctor. Charity and Ivy held back. "C'mon Charity," said Sam. "Don't you want to meet your new cousin? She's more like a niece really, given you and Kay are like sisters."

Charity forced a smile. "Whatever you say Uncle Sam." And then they laughed at how that sounded. Charity followed Pilar and Jessica, so that it was just Sam and Ivy left in the waiting area.

"Sam, you've got to go! Kay needs her father there."

He took her hand in his.

"I want you to come to meet my granddaughter right now, but I know that Kay probably wouldn't react well. And this day _is_ about her and her baby."

"Oh gosh, don't worry about me, Sam. I totally understand. Kay and I actually have something in common now. We both wanted Sam Bennett there with us after our firsts were born." Ivy grinned. The light in her eyes, that beautiful smile; Sam felt like no time had passed since they were young and in love for the first time.

"Thank you for understanding. And for everything you did to help today. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Go on. Be with your daughter, grand daddy. You suddenly look so much older to me," she teased.

"In a couple months you'll be a grand mommy when Ethan and Gwen have theirs. So watch who you're calling old!"

Ivy was going to remind him he'd a grandfather twice-over when that happened, but instead she gave him a gentle shove towards the hallway where the others had gone. "I'll be here when you're finished."

She almost said "I love you" and Sam almost did the same. Instead he kissed her on the cheek and left.

Ivy sat down with a happy sigh. She never would have thought a kiss on the cheek could make her feel this way but from Sam Bennett, that's all it took. She knew it wouldn't be long until they were doing much more than kissing...


	5. Chapter 5

"Ugh, c'mon Tabitha. Do it. I can't stand to hear them up there."

Kay was referring to the sound of Sam's bed creaking softly as he and Ivy made love. The witch stared back at her coldly. They were standing in the Bennetts' kitchen. It was almost midnight.

"I haven't tried casting any spells since July, and you know what happened then. I nearly destroyed the town," Tabitha said. "And lost my baby in the process..."

At this Kay felt guilty. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if she lost baby Maria, who was sleeping peacefully at present in her bassinet upstairs. She touched the old woman's hand sympathetically.

"I'm sorry Tabitha. I don't know what you're going through, but I imagine it's especially difficult given that no one knew about it except me. No one knows you lost more than your house that night..."

"Dr. Russell knew," Tabitha mused. "But I doubt we'll be seeing her again." A little humour had crept into her voice, which startled Kay.

"Do you know where Eve and T.C. are??"

Tabitha back peddled, waving her off. "No, no, silly child. I was just thinking aloud. Eve knew I was pregnant because of that one check-up I had. She certainly did not know the father was her ex-lover, Julian Crane..."

But Tabitha _did_ know what happened to Eve and T.C. She may have lost her special bowl and all her other magical objects, but that didn't stop her from channeling visions from the Bennett guest room where she was still residing. Tabitha knew perfectly well where the Russells had disappeared to, but she wasn't about to tell Kay, who would insist they do something to bring them back.

It was late September now. Autumn had begun turning the leaves throughout Harmony to red and gold, and there was a chill in the air, especially at night. There were spirits that only walked the earth this time of year, and Tabitha had begun noticing more and more of them.

In the weeks since Maria's birth, Sam and Ivy had rekindled their old flame. Although Ivy still technically rented the garage suite, she spent every night in Sam's bed. Her age-old dream had finally been realized and she couldn't be happier. It showed, too. She treated everyone with a genuine kindness that would have been inconceivable a year or two prior. Even Jessica and Charity had been won over. Kay was the only hold-out, knowing full well just how it was that Ivy had come to claim her prize. Sam, in Kay's mind, was being played by one of Harmony's most evil and manipulative, and she wouldn't stand for it. That's what she was pleading with Tabitha for. A spell to break them up.

"I suppose I could try my hand at a little one," Tabitha said. "Nothing too complicated. Just a little cold water on the budding romance."

"Yes!" said Kay eagerly. "That's all I'm asking for!"

Tabitha concentrated. She shut her eyes, quietly mumbling words in a language Kay did not recognize. Tabitha rubbed her hands together and then pointed upwards, a spark of light shooting from her palms and disappearing into the ceiling above them.

Silence descended on the room. Kay wasn't sure what to expect. "Is that it?"

"That's it. Now we'll just have to wait and see if I've got my mojo back."

Kay hated waiting, but what choice did she have?

Upstairs, Sam and Ivy had finishing having sex and were lying in each other's arms, talking softly.

"In a few weeks, Ethan and Gwen will be having their baby," said Ivy, wistfully.

"Are we expecting a grandson or a granddaughter?"

"They're waiting until the baby's born to find out. Isn't that nice? It seems so old-fashioned."

"You'd been hoping Ethan would be a girl when you were pregnant, weren't you?"

"That's not true!" Ivy protested, giving Sam's chest a playful push. "I would have been equally happy, girl or boy."

"I seem to remember any time we talked about future kids, you always said you wanted daughters. You said girls would be much easier to raise than boys."

Ivy laughed. She'd forgotten. Looking back at those times when they were young and in love, Ivy had been little more than a girl herself. Fancy and Pretty had turned out to be anything but easy, but then again, her son, Fox, had also been a handful. It was the Crane blood, she told herself. Ethan had always been her golden child.

Sam nuzzled her neck, kissing her there and on her throat. His warm hand slid up the inside of her naked thigh and she felt the burning desire to take his hand and put his fingers inside her.

The lamp beside the bed flickered for an instant, and all the warmth seemed suddenly drained from Sam. He took his hand away and rolled onto his back.

"Is something wrong?" Ivy asked, turning on her side to face him.

He frowned, staring up at the ceiling. "No, it's nothing."

"Sam, C'mon. You can't fool me." She sat up, covering her breasts with the blanket. "What's the matter."

"I just can't help but think about how you carried my child in you for nine months, and all the while I was watching from afar, thinking it was Julian Crane's baby. I was so hurt and jealous. All that time he was mine..." Sam couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"We've been over this already. I've apologized so many times and will continue to apologize until the end of my days if that's what you need to hear. I thought we had moved past this though?"

Sam had thought so too. He'd forgiven her and wanted to move past it. Now, though, he felt all those old wounds as though they'd been freshly opened.

"Maybe you should go sleep in your room tonight."

"Really? You're really going to shut down like this and not talk to me about what's wrong?"

"Ivy, I don't want to talk about this. I just want to sleep alone tonight, ok? Just because we're fucking again, doesn't mean you're my wife now."

Tears sprang to her eyes. She bit her lower lip, not wanting to fight with him, even though he was being way out of line. She hadn't suggested she was his wife. (Although she felt in her heart that it wouldn't be long before they were married.) What had gotten into him? She decided to give him space. That would be the safest bet. She'd come so far and done so many terrible things to get here, the feeling that her grasp was actually still so tenuous spooked her.

She slipped out of bed and put on her bathrobe, padding lightly to the door.

"Ivy, you forgot something."

She turned, expecting him to come for a goodnight kiss. Instead he was still seated in bed, holding out something. Her silver locket. The one in which she kept a photo of Sam and a photo of Ethan. She'd taken it off and put in on the bedside table. She took it from him, and then he rolled onto his side, looking away from her. No goodnight kiss.

She clutched the locket to her chest and then hurried downstairs and to her room, not noticing Kay and Tabitha were still up. Kay had a satisfied look on her face. She held a hand up for a high-five and Tabitha obliged, not taking her eyes off the hallway that Ivy had just passed through.

"I'm back," Tabitha said, smiling now too.


	6. Chapter 6

"I just had the weirdest experience," Grace said, setting down her shopping bags on the kitchen floor. David was at the table, hands covered in pumpkin guts. A half-carved jack-o-lantern sat atop several old editions of the Harmony Gazette.

"What was that?"

"I was picking up those linens from Mattress Emporium — the one in the strip mall, out by the highway — and who should I run into coming out of that Guns 'n Ammo store but Ivy!"

"Are you really going to make me carve all these pumpkins by myself?" David asked, not looking up from his work. The jack-o-lanterns had been Grace's idea, to put out on the front porch. It would give Hastings B&B that added touch of homey-ness, or so Grace had said. Halloween was still three weeks away but most of the other houses on their street already had decorations up.

"David, you're not listening to me."

"I am. You said you saw Ivy at the mattress store?"

"I saw her coming out of the gun shop. Isn't that strange?"

"Well, this is the USA. You Americans love your guns."

"Ivy never struck me as the gun-toting type. Even when Julian was shot, I never once suspected Ivy." Grace paused. "What was especially strange was she looked like she'd been crying. What do you suppose that was all about?"

David put down his carving knife and looked at her. "Honestly, I don't care. You know I try to steer clear of that woman as much as possible. She's—"

"Poison Ivy. I know, I know. Believe me, I've used that name many times myself. I don't like being around her any more than you do. But I can't help but feel for some one who's in pain."

David smiled at her. "That's why I love you so much. Because you have such a good heart, Grace. Now, why don't you come over here and give me a kiss?" He plunged his hands into the pumpkin and then pulled out two fistfuls of guts and seeds, standing up and walking towards her like a zombie with outstretched arms.

"Ah! No!" she screamed, unable to contain her giggles. "You'll get that all over my shirt!"

"I heard it makes for a great all-natural moisturizer." He smeared a bit on his cheeks, then tried to get hers. Grace screamed and tried to fight him off, bits of pumpkin splattering against the fridge and cupboards.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

They both whirled around, mortified. It was Paul, a B&B guest who was in town for a week or so. Grace was still getting back into the swing of running a business like this out of her home. She often forgot when there were visitors staying with them.

"Oh! Paul! I'm so sorry," she said, blushing. "What can I do for you?" She went to the sink and rinsed the pumpkin slime from her fingers. David's messy hands hung by his sides, a sheepish look on his face.

"I was just hoping I could grab a couple fresh towels, that's all."

"Of course," Grace said. "In fact, here," she reached into one of her bags, "I just picked up some towels and things today for this very reason." She handed him two towels and some face cloths.

"Thanks," he said, taking them from her and leaving quickly.

Grace shot David the stink eye. He raised his hands in a 'don't blame me' gesture, even though he was totally to blame. Of course she couldn't help but love him all the more right now, and they went back to the table to continue the pumpkin-carving together.

When she could hear the shower running down the hall, Grace said in a hushed voice: "Do you notice anything odd about Paul?"

"Odd in what way?"

"I don't know. Just odd."

Grace couldn't put her finger on it, but she'd had a strange feeling about Paul from the moment he checked in a couple days earlier. The Standish powers she'd inherited gave her a sixth sense about some things, and Paul was triggering it. She didn't think he was evil or anything. But there was something about him that felt... almost supernatural. He was young, maybe late 20s, and not unattractive with his stubbly facial hair and dark eyes. He wasn't very talkative and hadn't really explained why he was in Harmony, just said he needed some place to rest a while and figure things out. He was going to head upstate after Harmony.

"He's probably thinking the same thing about us right now after that performance."

"Yeah, thanks a lot for that!" Grace said, flicking a pumpkin seed at him.

"Watch it!" David warned, reaching into the pumpkin as if to grab another handful of guts.

"Ok! Ok! I surrender! Please! Truce!"

They leaned forward and kissed, neither minding that the other's face was still sticky with pulp.

x x x

Ivy was sitting on the edge of her bed in the garage suite. Her eyes were red and puffy and she'd used up all the tissues in the box on her nightstand. In her hand she held a single bullet.

Things with Sam had fallen apart since their last time in bed together. He needed space, he needed to think things over, he didn't think it was a good idea, he wanted to focus on his family right now. Every excuse to push her away. Kay had been unable to contain her joy and gloated over Ivy when they were alone. Ivy asked Sam if Kay had had anything to do with his decision, if Kay had said anything to him, but he insisted that was not the case. It was just a feeling he had.

She thought there were no tears left, but then her eyes began to well up all over again. She left her room to get some more Kleenex, literally bumping into Sam as she crossed through the garage.

"Shit. Sorry!" she said, awkwardly.

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I was just getting some tools to fix the upstairs sink."

"Don't let me keep you," she said pitifully. She turned to leave, the sound of something metal clinking on the floor behind her.

Sam bent and picked up something that had slipped from Ivy's hand. "Is this yours?" In his hand he held a single bullet. It glinted even in the poor light of the garage. It was made of silver.

"I didn't want you to see that," Ivy said, taking it from him. She was serious, too. This wasn't one of her ploys.

"Ivy, why are you carrying around a bullet. And where did you get this? It must have cost a fortune."

"This may sound crazy, but what do I have to lose? I'm a middle-aged divorcee living in the garage of her ex-lover, which she's paying for with money from her father." Ivy laughed, harshly. "Quite frankly I don't want to go on. So I'm going to use _this_  to end it."

A look of horror passed over Sam's face. The coldness he'd been feeling for her seemed to thaw for an instant, then harden over, then thaw again. It was like his emotions were having a battle in his heart.

"You... You can't be serious."

"The saddest part is I'm not. I'm just waiting for my background check to go through and the 72-hour holding period to finish up down at Guns and Ammo. They let me take my bullet but I have to go back for the pistol."

Sam snatched the bullet from her. He wanted to tell her loved her and it would kill _him_  if she took her own life, but the words refused to come. Finally he managed: "Your father would be heartbroken. Especially if he knew it was his money that paid for this!" He held the bullet up and yanked it away when she tried to grab it from him.

"Give it to me! My father didn't pay for that and I've only got the one!"

"What are you talking about Ivy?"

"My locket," she said. "I got it melted down and made into a bullet. All throughout my marriage to Julian, that silver locket was my rock because it held the two men that mattered more to me than any others. When I die, I want it to be—"

He didn't let her finish. Whatever invisible force seemed to be holding him back was broken now. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She was shocked but after a second she returned the kiss. The passions that flowed through them now was giving them both life, bringing them both to their senses.

"I don't want you in here anymore," Sam said. "I want you in my home and in my bed. Just promise me, Ivy. Promise you will never, _ever_  pull a stunt like this again."

"It wasn't a stunt," she said. "I didn't want to go living if I couldn't have you. I was... I was at rock bottom."

"Well you have me. You have me and I never want to let go of you ever again." He tucked the bullet into his breast pocket. "I'm keeping this. Maybe we can have it melted down again and turned into something new. Maybe even a—"

"Shh." Ivy put a finger to his lips. For so long, the prospect of Sam Bennett giving her a ring had been what she wanted more than anything. More than life itself. But in this moment, she didn't want to jinx it. She knew what he was going to say, and she communicated as much with her eyes. "All that matters is I have you."

He kissed her again, then lifted her up in his arms and carried her out of the garage, across the threshold into the main part of the house.


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you staying for dinner, Kay?" asked Ivy. The kitchen island was a mess of chopped veggies, shredded cheese, and marinara sauce. Ground beef was simmering on the stovetop, filling the room with a rich aroma mingled with the smell of something starting to burn. She was attempting lasagne and so far it wasn't going smoothly. Jessica had offered to help, but then she and Charity got an invite to go for pizza with John and Simone. Ivy wiped her hands on her apron, never having felt so ... domestic. "Your father's running some errands, so we'll be dining later than usual."

Kay paused in the kitchen doorway. She stared at Ivy with bored disdain. Baby Maria was in her arms.

"No," Kay said. "I'm going over to Tabitha's." And then, without saying goodbye, she turned and headed out the back door.

It was two weeks after Ivy and Sam's reconciliation. Kay had not been impressed, and even threatened to expose Ivy for her plot with David. But ultimately she was bluffing, which only made Kay more resentful of Ivy. Their conversations were always tense, although eventually Sam got stern with Kay about his treatment of Ivy and she started putting on a good face. At least when he was around...

Ivy gritted her teeth and reminded herself that Rome wasn't built in a day. She'd make in-roads with Kay. Maybe now that Ethan and Gwen had a child, a little cousin for Maria to one day play with, Ivy could use that to her advantage. If only her son and daughter-in-law would move back from L.A.

Ethan had called her with the news two nights ago. A healthy baby girl they'd named Sarah. Despite the difficulties Gwen had experienced throughout her pregnancy, it turned out that Dr. Abel, their prenatal specialist, was a miracle worker. In late July, Ivy had worried when Theresa also went to the Crane apartment complex in L.A. She thought it would be the death of Gwen and the baby, but in the end that wasn't the case. Ivy questioned Ethan constantly about what Theresa was up to, but he always told her to be quiet and to leave Theresa alone. Ivy sensed he was hiding something from her. When she asked Gwen about it, Gwen said Theresa was "a godsend", as were Fox and Whitney. None of it made sense to Ivy. Had the whole world gone topsy turvy? She would press them both for the truth when they came back to Harmony at Christmas. For now she just had to count her blessings that they seemed happy, that the baby was born, and — most importantly — she was back together with Ethan's father. The thought of spending Christmas all together as one big family thrilled her.

However, if Kay got her way, that scenario would never come to pass.

"Tabitha, your spell didn't work!" she said once she was next door. She had Maria settled in the crib Tabitha procured specially for Kay's visits with the baby. At least that was what she told Kay about the crib.

Now that Tabitha's house was finished — restored to its former state right down to the magic bowl on her counter — she was able to properly conduct her magical rites and ceremonies. As a result, she'd become convinced her baby hadn't been lost after all. She had a premonition, a vision of her with an adorably evil little blond girl. This was her baby. She knew it. She just needed to figure out a way to get her back... The boys in the basement were silent on the matter. They were giving Tabitha no hints. For months, she had assumed that it was her explosive spell that had done away with her pregnancy, but now she wondered if some other dark arts had been at play. Perhaps a demon seized on that moment to steal the child and keep it from her. A sufficiently evil act on her part might be enough to prove to the dark forces she was still worthy of keep her hellspawn. Then they would return the baby.

Tabitha scowled. "I'm beginning to rethink this open-door policy."

"Oh c'mon, Tab. You know you're always happy to see me," Kay said.

The witch said nothing. At times she wondered if maybe she had become too fond of Kay. Maybe it was this softness that the dark forces had noticed and were punishing her for. Tabitha's mind was perpetually bouncing between theories, all grounded in the idea that the erasure of her pregnancy had been a supernatural reprimand.

"I was rusty when I cast the spell on Sam and Ivy. Out of practice. Now that I'm master of my own domain again, I can give it another try. If you're sure that's something you truly want..."

"Are you kidding? Of course it is! I want you to end dad and Ivy's relationship once and for all!"

Tabitha smiled, wickedly. "If it's _finality_  you're looking for, I have the perfect idea..."

Meanwhile, Sam was walking back from the strip mall, just off the main highway. In a small bag, he was carrying the pistol Ivy purchased. He'd left his cruiser on Main Street with plans to go to and from the gun store on foot, not wanting anyone to see his car and ask questions. He also hadn't wanted to spook the store's owner unnecessarily when he pulled up. He was off duty and not in uniform. He did, however, carry his badge with him. When the last customer exited Guns and Ammo, Sam had held the badge up to the shopkeeper.

_"Whoa man! Is this a raid?"_

Sam knew he had the guy right where he wanted him. No, it wasn't a raid, he explained. But unless he wanted trouble from the police, he was going to have to do him a favour.

Sam had had his suspicions the gun shop was operating without all the proper licences. Investigating the business had been on his and Luis' to-do list back in the spring - it would amount to a big fine, nothing more, so the task hadn't been a top priority for either of them. Especially not when Sheridan Crane was kidnapped, followed by the earthquake, followed by the disappearances of Eve, T.C., and Alistair. Now though, he decided to use this to his advantage.

 _"I'm willing to let you off with a warning,"_  he told the owner. _"If you do me one favour. A friend of mine recently came in here and bought a gun."_ He slid a photo of Ivy across the counter. _"I want it. And if she tries to buy one again, you're going to turn her down. You got that?"_

Not wanting any trouble, the man was more than happy to oblige. He handed over the gun to Sam and swore he would update all his store's paperwork.

_"Good. A business like this could go under if you were caught selling firearms illegally. Technically."_

Now walking back into town in the light of the full moon, Sam pulled up his collar so that no one would potentially see him. His adrenaline was still pumping. He'd never done anything like that before! He wasn't going to make a habit of it either. 'What would dad say if he were here?' Sam thought. But his parents lived in Arizona now and seldom returned to Harmony.

Ivy's flirtation with suicide had rattled him. The thought of her taking her own life was unbearable. Sure, there were more ways than one to end a life, but he felt like this was one step he could take to make it that much harder for her if she ever tried again.

Tabitha was watching him now in her magic bowl. Kay wanted to know what she was looking at, but the witch shooed her away every time she came close.

"No Kay, this spell won't work if I have you looking over my shoulder the whole time," Tabitha lied. She waved her hand over the bowl and the images therein changed. Now she saw a half-man, half-wolf creeping through the forest on the outskirts of town. Tabitha tried to keep tabs on any supernaturals that entered town, and had recently noticed a werewolf in their midst. The young man was staying over at Grace's new bed and breakfast, but was skilled enough to keep his changes under control. Except, of course, for tonight. Tonight was a full moon, the time when no were creature could stop itself from transforming.

The werewolf was prowling for food. It could smell deer not far off, and while werewolves were known to hunt any warm-blooded animals (whether two-legged or four), experienced werewolves tend to go for the path of least resistance. Humans were easy prey but unpredictable. Deer, however, could always be counted on to react the same way.

Except now Tabitha sent her powers through the bowl and into the wolf. "That's right, you overgrown dog," she said in its head. "I have something much tastier for you. And you have to eat every last bite, understand?"

The monster immediately changed directions and began loping through the trees and underbrush at remarkable speed, making its way into town, guided by Tabitha, whose eyes had rolled back in her head revealing only the whites. Kay watched with horror as her friend stood, arms outstretched, apparently in some kind of trance. Kay inched closer to the counter where Tabitha's bowl sat and was about to peek in it when—

"What do you think you're doing?" Tabitha snapped, causing Kay to cry out in surprise.

The water in the bowl revealed nothing.

"Tabitha, your eyes. They were completely white and you looked totally out of it. Are you OK?"

She smiled. "Of course, dear."

"Well did you cast the spell?"

"I did. It won't be long now before Sam and Ivy cease to exist as a couple."

"Good!" Kay said smugly.

'Good indeed, Kay," thought Tabitha, feeling smug as well. 'Killing Sam Bennett will be all the proof needed for the boys in the basement to see I haven't gone soft on these mortals. Even Kay.'

At that moment Sam was hurrying through downtown Harmony. He decided to cut through the densely forested Gabriela Park. He'd left his cruiser on the other side near the Book Cafe. If it was still open, he'd stop in and grab some cookies for dessert. He knew Ivy was at home slaving away over lasagne. He would eat it all and ask for seconds, no matter what it tasted like. Something sweet afterwards for a pallet-cleanser might be nice though...

Now there was a rustling sound not far away. Sam stood perfectly still. The night was eerily quiet. He shivered.

"Better pick up the p—"

Suddenly a black shape emerged from the bushes. It was low to the ground, crawling on all fours. It moved like a dog but was much, much too big. When it rose up on its hind legs like a human, any hope it might be a large stray evaporated. Its eyes glowed red and were fixed on him. Sam took a step backwards, holding his breath. And then it was running, racing towards him.

Sam's feet slipped as he turned to flee. He didn't even have a chance to scream before it was on him, snarling and snapping. Pain rang through him as the beast sank its teeth into his thigh and began shaking him. Sam was a big guy — 200 pounds of solid muscle — but this thing had lifted him off the ground like he was rag doll! It tossed him deeper into the park, away from the Book Cafe. Sam was sprawled on his back looking up at this... this wolf man as it licked his blood from around its snout. It howled up at the moon, a long and mournful sound that was like ice water in Sam's veins.

Ivy's gun! Miraculously Sam still gripped the bag from Guns and Ammo. He pulled out the pistol and pointed it up at the monster. It stared down at him, curling back its lips as he pulled the trigger.

Click. Click-click-click.

It never occurred to Sam that the gun wouldn't be loaded. He thought of his own police-issued weapon, locked in the glove compartment of his cruiser. If he could just get back there...

The wolf man seemed to know what was happening. A wicked, canine grin came over its face. It was savouring this moment.

That was when Sam remembered something else he had with him. Something he'd kept in his pocket every day since the night he took it from Ivy in the garage.

He flipped open the cylinder of the gun and jammed in Ivy's silver bullet. "You've only got one shot, Sam," he told himself, taking aim. "Make this count!"

The smile left the monster's face. It lunged, a hideous mix of fur and muscle and teeth and claws.

BAM!


	8. Chapter 8

**_Early 1970s_ **

Sam Bennett was 24 years old. He was only a couple years into his career as a police officer in Harmony and his father, Samuel Benjamin Bennett (who most people called Ben), was still chief.

It was a hot summer afternoon and Sam had just finished his shift. He looked forward to getting home, changing, and then meeting the gang down at the beach for a fire and some beers. Maybe even late night skinny dipping, although he supposed that was technically in contravention of Local By-Law No. 159, which banned public nudity. Sam was, in the mold of his father, a by-the-book policeman but he was also young and there were some harmless summer activities that even he was unable to resist.

He pulled up at the UltraGo gas station just off Main Street to fill up the tank of his cruiser. Harmony usually got busier with tourists and summer renters this time of year, but it was an uncharacteristically lazy afternoon at the UltraGo. There was only one other car parked at the pumps, its owner presumably inside the station. Sam put the nozzle into the tank and whistled to himself as the meter beside him rolled higher. He was going to use the squeegee and clean his windshield but decided 'Screw it' and just continued to lean against the meter as the tank filled.

Sam was feeling like a big shot. He loved his job, loved being in uniform. He wished Grace could see him right now. He wanted to take her for a ride in his cruiser. Let her sound the siren.

Sam and Grace had only recently met when he was up in Boston with some buddies for a concert. She had been working as a waitress at a dumpy little diner near the concert venue, itself a grotty sort of auditorium where local acts played on the weekend. When he and his friends, all hungover, piled into a booth at the diner the morning after the show, Sam felt like death warmed over. Until, that is, Grace arrived at their table. She was a year younger than him, average height, with shoulder-length auburn hair and bangs. It was the early 1970s and Grace, though no flower child or hippy, had a genuineness and a positivity about her that made him think of the summer of love.

He'd been speechless in front of his buddies, barely able to stammer out his order of eggs and toast, but when they left the diner to head back to Harmony, Sam doubled back and asked Grace for her number.

 _"I don't have one,"_ she'd admitted, sheepishly. _"I'm living at a boarding house. The woman who runs the place is really strict about calls from boys. I just use the payphone down the street."_

 _"Well then let me give you my number,"_ Sam said, stealing her pencil and pad of paper.

She looked at the note when he was done.

 _"Harmony?"_ She laughed. _"I don't even know where that is, but it sure sounds nice. To be honest though, I can't afford to make long distance calls."_ Glancing around to make sure no coworkers were eavesdropping. _"Working here isn't exactly lucrative,"_ she said in a hushed voice. Her cuteness and innocence made Sam want to pull her in and kiss her right then and there.

_"Then write to me. I've got a car now and can come up to visit you some time. I'd like to take you out."_

Grace had blushed, then wrote down her address on a fresh piece of paper and handed it back to him. _"How about_  you _write_  me. _Then we maybe we can go on a date next time you're back in the big bad city."_ She winked at him. _"I've gotta get back to my tables."_

The whole drive back to Harmony, Sam didn't hear a word his friends said. He just stared out the window, watching the lush New England countryside fly by, dreaming about this impossibly beautiful girl. Grace. He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to know everything there was to know about her. This was the first time since Ivy that Sam had felt this way about a girl.

He wrote to her as soon as he got home and was thrilled to get a response two days later. Their letters were flirtatious and intimate, yet Grace revealed little of herself. They made plans to chat on the phone — Sam was more than willing to spend his hard-earned money on the long distance charges. It would just take a little coordination because Grace needed to be at that damned payphone down the block in order to receive his call. They set up a day and time — it was for 7:00 the next day — when he would call and she would wait for him in the phone booth.

Tomorrow night he would finally get to speak with Grace again, the girl who had dominated his every waking thought for weeks now. He wished he could just drive up to Boston and see her in person. Not just see her. He wanted to kiss her, caress her, maybe even undress her... Sam couldn't help feeling this way.

His feelings towards Grace were liberating for multiple reasons. Ivy was obviously the big one — he felt like he was finally able to get over her. After she chose Julian, Sam had been devastated. Hadn't wanted to go on living. And when he learned that she and Julian were expecting a baby, he _really_  thought he was going to lose his mind. But he kept himself focused on his goal: finishing at the police academy and becoming a cop.

The police academy...

That was the other reason meeting Grace had made him feel so good. The effect she had on him was helping him to put the police academy and what had happened there in the past. Where it belonged. Noah Griswold had sworn to never speak of it to anyone. He promised the secret would die with him. But that hadn't made Sam any less paranoid that someday it might be revealed...

Ding! The gas pump let out a pleasant chime, informing Sam his tank was full and snapping him out of his day dreams. He replaced the nozzle on the pump and screwed the cap back on his tank. He strolled leisurely into the gas station, reaching for his wallet as he entered.

What happened next was over in no more than a few seconds. And yet Sam could see everything in perfect detail, like he was looking at a very clear photograph. Behind the counter was Bobby Dean who ran the station. His face was covered in blood and one of his eyes was swollen shut. (It would later be removed and replaced with a glass replica than never seemed to sit perfectly straight in its socket.) He had a handful of twenty-dollar bills on their way to being stuffed in a grubby brown paper bag. His remaining good eye fixed itself on Sam. In front of the counter was a man Sam didn't recognize. He was young, sunburnt nose and neck, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses and hair concealed by a nondescript ball cap. In his hand, a glock 9mm. It was pointed directly at Bobby's head, however, it swivelled now to point at Sam.

But before this thug could pull the trigger, Sam had drawn his own gun and fired. One shot. Right in the chest. The man fell backwards like a scarecrow in a wind storm. BAM! One bullet came flying from his weapon when he hit the floor. The stray shot hit a chip rack to Sam's left. There was no second shot.

Sam was heralded as hero in Harmony. The story of the violent attempted robbery was written up in the local papers and Ben Bennett and the rest of the Harmony police department couldn't have been prouder. But the incident left Sam in a deep state of shock. He'd never had to fire his gun let alone kill another human being, and the event put him in a haze for more than a week. He had trouble sleeping and eating. He wanted to be a big man around his father and the other local cops, who were all much older than him, but inside he felt so unprepared for what it would feel like to take a life. He was so out of it that he forgot to call Grace the next night. In fact, it wasn't until seven days later that he remembered. Instinctively he grabbed the nearest phone and dialled her number, forgetting that it was for a pay phone down the block from her house.

"Pops, I need to take a sick day," Sam said, entering the police chief's office without knocking. "There's this girl, and—"

"A girl, eh? You bet, son. I figure you've earned a day off after what you did last week."

Sam was taken by surprise - he'd anticipated much more resistance. His father had always been so strict about sick days. That Sam was clearly not sick had made Sam all the more convinced his father would stonewall him. But his old man seemed keenly interested in the fact that Sam wanted to go see a girl — too interested, in fact — but Sam would take what he could get and so didn't question his father's largesse. Instead, he raced up to Boston and went immediately to the address he'd been corresponding with Grace at.

He felt terrible that he'd missed their night to chat on the phone, and knew there was no way he could apologize via letter. He had to see her in person and explain. But when a shrewd old woman finally answered the door of the boarding house Grace was renting a room in, he discovered he was too late.

"She's gone," the old woman said flatly, not even fully opening the door.

"But where? Is she still here in Boston?"

"No, she left town. Said something about a needing to find something or someone. Had a 'premonition' you could say, although there didn't seem to be a lot of details in it. She's crazy to just go off like that with no idea who or what she's searching for."

"Did she leave you a forwarding address? Somewhere I could go to find her?"

The woman scowled. "That's not something I'd share with a strange man who shows up at my door. Now I've got to go." And before Sam could say another word, she slammed the door in face.

He thought about pounding it and telling her he was a cop and this was urgent, but he doubted she would believe him, and he didn't have his badge or police cruiser with him to prove it. Besides, being a police officer from some tiny town elsewhere in New England was not likely to give him much authority here.

Sam walked the streets of Boston, now tormented not only by the shooting but by the fact that he'd missed his chance to be with Grace. At one point he passed a beautiful, huge stone building, the Boston Public Library, and had an idea. Inside he went straight to the periodicals section. He knew a central library like this would also carry copies of local papers from throughout the region, and he hoped and prayed that the Harmony Gazette was one of them, and sure enough it was! Sam got the most recent edition and when he was positive no one was watching, he took out his pocket knife and carefully cut out the article that described his harrowing "shoot out" (as the reporter called it) at the gas station. He folded it up and found a piece of scrap paper on which to pen a letter to Grace, explaining what had gone on, how it had affected him and caused him to miss their planned phone date. He begged her to accept his apology and asked her to write to him with her address as soon as she had one. He said he would come to her, wherever she was, no matter the cost, if it meant he could see her again and make his apology in person. He bought an envelope and a stamp at a nearby drug store, but held off popping it into the mail and sending it to the boarding house. He wasn't sure he could trust the old crone to actually send it on when Grace did finally provide a forwarding address.

So instead, Sam went to the diner where he first laid eyes on her. It was night by now and the diner was pretty quiet. He ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich and made friendly conversation with the waitress, Daisy. Sam was probably the most handsome customer to come in all day (probably all year), and Daisy was eager to chat him up. Her intuition was good, and she could tell something was wrong.

"What's eating you up, hunny?" she asked, sliding into the seat across from him. Daisy knew she'd get in trouble if her boss was in, but it was late and she knew the line cooks weren't going to rat on her for taking five like this.

Sam took a deep breath, ready to spill everything, but he resisted. It was all too painful. Daisy saw the hurt in his eyes though. It said more than words needed to say.

"You're looking for Grace, aren't you?"

He jerked to attention.

"You're that boy from Harmony Grace was always talking about. You and Grace were writing letters, right? She talked about you constantly."

"Yes! We were supposed to talk on the phone last week, we set up a time and everything, but ... something stopped me from calling when I was supposed to. I came up to explain everything to her and apologize but now she's left town and I don't think I can trust her old landlady to pass this letter to her." He held up the envelope.

Daisy took it from him and put a comforting hand on his.

"You were smart not to give it to her. I think that man-hater would have tossed it in the fire and never spoken a word of it to Grace. I can tell how much Grace means to you. When you didn't call, she was devastated. She felt like such a fool for believing you. For believing in love. That girl's been through a lot and I think it was just one more disappointment she couldn't get over. I have to admit, I swore I'd punch the man who broke her heart if I ever had the chance."

"You don't look like you're ready to deck me, although I'd gladly take the hit if it would make any difference."

She smiled. "I can tell you're not some cad who was leading her on. Grace came in here just a few days ago and said she had to go. She was leaving Boston in search of..." Daisy hesitated, like she'd said too much.

"What is it?"

"Did Grace tell you about the fire in her letters?"

Sam shook his head. An ominous feeling crept into his heart and he was suddenly fearful for Grace. How was it possible he could feel so much, so quickly, for a woman he'd only met once and exchanged a few letters with?

Daisy then told Sam about the apartment fire Grace had survived, about her amnesia. She knew nothing of her past and after missing out on Sam's call, she became convinced she had to leave Boston. The romantic possibilities with her handsome stranger suddenly extinguished, she'd decided it was time to leave. She knew she wasn't meant for a life in Boston, and something was telling her to go off in search of more — maybe her past, maybe her future. Of where she was destined to live.

"I'll hang on to this and keep tabs on the boarding house. I know one of the other girls renting there, and when Grace does give them a forwarding address for her mail, I'll make sure she gets your letter."

Sam's face lit up for the first time all night.

"I don't know how to thank you for this!"

"A simple kiss is all I ask," Daisy said with a wink. Sam leaned across the table and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Now you should hit the road if you plan to get back to Harmony tonight. Drive safe and good luck, Sam. You seem like a truly good person, otherwise I never would have said any of this to you."

"You would have just punched me in the face?"

Daisy laughed. "Exactly."

* * *

Every morning and every afternoon, Sam checked the mail eagerly, hoping something would come from Grace. Each night as he lay in bed, when his hand would drift down beneath the sheets and he'd take hold of himself, he'd fantasize about Grace. Days turned into weeks, and Sam slowly gave up hope he'd ever hear from Grace again. He tried to move on, tried to date some of the local girls who were constantly hitting on him, but Sam never felt a spark with any of them. Once he crossed paths with Ivy and her young son, Ethan, which only made his love sickness for Grace even worse. He was definitely over Ivy now.

And then after work one evening that fall, there was a knock on his door. He was expecting to find his younger brother, Hank, urging him to come out to another one of his parties. For that reason he almost didn't answer it.

"Sam!"

There on his doorstep was Grace. She'd cut her hair since that first day in the diner, it was a cute bob now, but everything else about her was exactly as he remembered. Even her voice.

"Grace!" There was so much he wanted to say. Had she received his letter? Where had she gone? Would she accept his apology?

Instead, neither of them said a thing. She put her hands on either side of his head and they pulled each other into a kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

The shot that rang out over Gabriela Park that night in October 2003 was followed by the long and agonized howl of a wolf. Sam had hit the creature in the centre of its chest and for an instant Sam was transported back to Bobby Dean's UltraGo and the robber he'd killed that day. However, the animal that stood over him, though stricken, did not tip backwards like a man made of straw. Instead it put a clawed hand to its chest, covering the bleeding hole, then examined its palm as if to double check that what had happened was for real. Sam half expected it to advance on him, only momentarily deterred, but he was wrong. The werewolf — because truly, how else could he describe this thing? — was done for. It dropped to its knees and Sam scrambled backwards, afraid it might collapse on top of him.

Something else happened first though, before it collapsed in a heap. The hair that covered its body began to dissipate. Its snout shrank away and became the nose and lips of an ordinary man. He was growing smaller all over, transforming back into the shape and size of a human being. When those wild, coppery eyes became human and blue, they locked with Sam's. The man opened his mouth to say something and reached towards Sam. But then a thin rivulet of blood trickled over his bottom lip and he fell forward, dead. His eyes were still open in the grass.

Sam's head was spinning. How... How was this possible? Sam had never been a particularly superstitious man, although Grace's premonitions and the eerie occurrences that surrounded his niece, Charity ... These had opened his mind to the possibility of some things existing beyond the realm of the scientifically provable. Still, he was a police officer, a man grounded in the here-and-now. He was naturally skeptical, always trying to find concrete evidence, rational explanations... But he also needed to trust his eyes, and there was no way he could deny what he'd seen. That was a half-man, half-wolf monster that turned into a human after being shot with a silver bullet. You didn't have to be Stephen King to know it was a werewolf.

But no one who hadn't seen it for themselves would ever believe such a story. How could Sam justify shooting dead an unarmed, naked man in the middle of the park? Heck, what would people say about Sam being in the park at night with a naked man, let alone one who turned up dead? An old fear reared its head, but he tamped it down. He needed to focus on the biggest issue at hand: the fact that he'd just killed a man.

Sam struggled to stand, wincing from the pain in his leg where the animal had bitten him. He had to think fast. He pulled out his phone.

"Hank? Hank, I'm at Gabriela Park and I need you to come quick..."

x x x

When Hank arrived, Sam told him as much of the truth as he could. It wasn't much. He was cutting through the park when out of nowhere this naked guy came out of the bushes, holding a knife. Before Sam knew what was happening the guy was on him, slashing him once in the leg before Sam wriggled free and tried to escape. However, he was injured now and didn't make it far before he was on the ground again. That's when he reached for his gun and pulled the trigger. He'd hoped to get the guy in the shoulder, but at the last minute he moved and Sam hit him in the chest. The man had seemed insane, was moving around erratically, wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing! When Sam shot him, the knife flew from his hand and was over in the bushes nearby somewhere.

"Shit, Sam! You didn't mention this when you called!" Hank pointed at Sam's leg. While waiting for Hank to arrive, Sam had torn his shirt sleeve off and wrapped it around his thigh like a tourniquet. He wanted to cover up the obvious bite mark. The fabric was already wet with blood from the wound. "We need to get you an ambulance!"

Sam tried to resist but Hank wasn't hearing any of it. He called an ambulance and then Luis.

As they waited, Hank looked at Sam, who was clearly in a daze. He stared at the body in front of him, exit wound in the man's back was bigger than a tennis ball. Something about Sam's story didn't add up. He knew his brother, and he could tell there was something fishy going on. Something more than the dead body lying between them. He debated saying something, and then finally decided he had to. Especially since Luis and others would be on the scene before long.

"You're hiding something from me," Hank said.

Sam looked up, a shocked expression on his face. Shocked and guilty.

"I... I don't know what you mean. I called you right away, why would I be hiding anything?"

"Sam, you've gotta be straight with me, ok? Did you know this guy?"

"No!" Sam said emphatically. Hank believed him. He was going to ask another question when Sam unexpectedly relented. "Look Hank, if I tell you something, you have to promise to keep it between us."

"Sam, you're my big brother. _And_  my boss. Do you think I would say a word to anyone if you ordered me not to?"

"It's just... I hate to put you in a position like this. Keeping my secret for me. Even from Luis, you hear?"

The seriousness with which Sam spoke gave Hank pause, but he ultimately nodded.

"You have my word, Sam. Now what is it? What is it you're not telling me?"

Sam took a deep breath.

"The thing is..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Ivy's gun.

"That's not one of ours," Hank said, not even needing to gesture to the police issued firearm on his belt.

"Exactly. It's Ivy's."

"Ivy Crane owns a gun?" Hank had not been expecting that.

"Yes. This gun is registered in her name and she doesn't know I have it and furthermore, she can't know I used it. My gun is in my glove compartment. I didn't have it with me — How could I have known _this_  would happen? It was dumb luck I had it on me. But I can't say that to Luis or put it in my report. It would cause a whole shitload of unnecessary problems for me, for Ivy. So as far as you know, I used my standard-issue police handgun, OK?"

"Sam, I know it's not a huge lie, but lies always end up causing problems in the long run..."

"Hank, C'mon. You swore. When have I ever asked you to cover up anything for me?"

Hank was silent. The answer was never.

A flashlight appeared at the other end of the park, near the entrance. "Sam?? Hank??" It was Luis. The ambulance wouldn't be far behind.

"Hank! Do you have my back on this or not?"

"Of course, Sam. You know I always got your back."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Luis was almost upon them.

"Holy shit..." he said when saw the dead body. But Sam could only half hear him. He was back in that daze, his mind racing as he thought about what had happened. The pain in his leg was searing now. He could feel where each of those teeth had punctured his flesh.

He knew Hank was right about lies causing problems eventually. If Hank only knew the real lie he was harbouring...


	10. Chapter 10

The coming weeks brought many changes to Sam. As October became November, he felts his moods become increasingly wild and unpredictable. Emotions surged and ebbed within him and one moment he might clench his fists in rage only to burst into tears moments later. He felt like a teenager, temperamental, thoughtless, brash. Ivy and the rest of his friends and family believed these changes in his behaviour were linked to shooting; that Sam was grappling with PTSD. He consciously did nothing to dissuade them from thinking this. But in truth that werewolf bite was making itself known to him. Strange magic and animal hormones now coursed through his human veins, mixing and changing him.

Sam confided in Ivy the story of his first shooting, back in the 70s. Ivy remembered reading about it in the paper at the time and worrying for him. He told her about how much it had messed him up initially, how that was when he and Grace came together as a couple and how much she had helped him but how much it had worried him that she was being forced into the role of counsellor and emotional support worker, rather than girlfriend and lover. Sam didn't want to do the same to Ivy now.

She forced him to meet her gaze. They were sitting on the edge of his (their) bed as they spoke one night before going to sleep.

"Sam, I'm here for you. I _want_  to be here for you, through the good times and the bad. You're not forcing me into any role. I love you."

"I love you too. I love you so much, Ivy. Thank you."

After having sex, Sam couldn't fall asleep. He slipped out from under Ivy's sleeping arms and crept from their bedroom. He moved without making a sound. It was eerie. He put on a pair of shorts and sneakers and went for a jog, despite the late hour. And the temperature. It was just 41 degrees outside, barely above freezing, and yet Sam's blood felt hot. He desperately needed to burn off this energy, and had even considered waking up Ivy for another round. (Sam's sex drive had also kicked into overdrive since that night in the park. It took all his willpower not to pull Ivy against him and unbutton her pants every time they were alone.) Tonight he chose to run. He raced all over Harmony, chest bare and nipples hard in the late autumn air. He passed the police station, passed the church, passed the Russell household which he had combed for clues countless times. He ran by the sink hole that had once been the Wallace house; the pit had been stabilized by a team of army corps engineers, though local politicians still wrangled over just what was to be done with it. Sam stopped long enough to peer into the black abyss, wondering what secrets the caverns below Harmony might hold. Then he kept running. Faster, faster, faster until at last he was winded. He trotted back down his street past Tabitha's house, noticing her kitchen lights were on even though it was past 3 a.m. by now.

He went inside his own home and gave a rough shake of his shoulders, almost like a dog, to get the sweat off. He went into the downstairs washroom to splash water on his face and what he saw looking back at him in the almost made him scream. His chest and shoulders and arms were covered in hair — not fur, but the kind of body hair he sometimes noticed on other men at the pool or in the locker room at the gym, the kind that covered their shoulders and backs as well as their fronts. He had a beard, too. There was more than just hair though; he was bigger than when he'd left, his arms and torso had grown substantially so that he almost looked like one of the He-Man action figures his son Noah had loved as a kid. Sam's eyes, too, were a coppery gold.

"Fuck..." he half-moaned, half-whispered. "What the hell is happening to me?"

He raised a hair-covered hand to touch his pecs and biceps to make sure they were real, and noticed his fingernails looked more like claws. He shut his eyes and tried wish away this transformation. "I thought werewolves only changed when there's a full moon?" he said aloud.

Next door in her kitchen, Tabitha was watching this scene unfold through her magic bowl.

"That's partly true, Sam," she said. "But what people don't know is that a werewolf has the power to change at any time he likes. It's only when there's a full moon that he has no choice. Of course most new werewolves have a pack to help show them the way of controlling their powers. Shame you went and shot your maker." She was smiling though.

Tabitha had been disappointed when her attempt to kill him failed, however, she now saw it as a blessing. An uncontrolled new wolf in town had great potential in terms of causing hurt and chaos. And death. She would let this play out. Kay had become preoccupied with Miguel's ... situation ... and that meant she was no longer pestering Tabitha to break up Sam and Ivy.

Back at the Bennett's, Sam still stood with his eyes shut tightly, hoping and praying to return to normal. When he opened them, he was, although his body's new normal these days seemed to be more muscular and a little bit hairier than he had been before. He'd shave his chest in the morning, even though he knew it would grow back by midday. He had even toyed with getting a waxing kit, but he knew that was unlikely to be any more effective in the face of such magic.

He got back into bed as quietly as he'd left it. He spooned Ivy, holding her close and savouring the feeling of her arms tightening against his.

x x x

In the wake of the shooting, Sam wasn't the only one reflecting on the thwarted gas station robbery of his youth. Grace remembered, too, and tried to get in touch with him to see how he was doing and if there was any way she could help. But her efforts had been greeted with polite but perfunctory dismissal. Ever since she missed the delivery of baby Maria, Sam and Kay (and even Jessica) had all but totally shut her out of their lives. According to Charity, who was there at the hospital, a nurse had called Grace who supposedly refused to come.

_"But that's simply not true! I never got any such call!"_

Charity hadn't known what to say to her aunt. The incident definitely seemed out of character, but Sam and the others saw no reason to question it. The whole thing still unsettled Grace months after the fact. She wondered who the nurse was who'd made the calls to "her" and Jessica; if Eve were here, Grace knew she would have been able to find the nurse's identity and get to the bottom of what had happened that day. But Eve and TC were still gone.

This was how the subject of the Russells came up one night in mid-November: Charity was over for a visit and Grace had once again raised the topic of missing Kay's birth and what "she" had said upon being informed Kay was in labour.

"Aunt Grace, I really think you need to put this behind you," Charity said, as sympathetically as she could. "I believe it wasn't you, but if you're going to make inroads with Kay and the others, you'll have to find some other way." Grace had only met her granddaughter once, and that was when Kay asked Charity to babysit for her. Charity knew Kay would kill her if she found out, but Charity had also known how much it was killing Grace not to know Maria. Charity had called Grace over to have a very quick visit with the baby while the rest of the Bennett household was out. Otherwise, Grace had had no other encounters with her firstborn grandchild.

"I know, I know," Grace said with a sigh. She was brewing tea in the B&B's kitchen. David was working late at the newspaper, John had gone out with no explanation, and there were no guests. After her last one was shot and killed while attacking Sam in the park, she'd decided not to take in any new customers for a little while. "If Eve was here, she would have delivered Maria and would have seen to it personally that I was called..."

A silence passed between them. "Grace..." Charity said finally, "I don't think Eve and TC are dead."

Grace looked up sharply.

"I don't think so either."

"Since the beginning, I've had this feeling... That they're still alive. Not Alistair, I don't get any sense that he's still with us. But Eve and TC — they weren't killed that night. They weren't murdered by Alistair or by the sinkhole or any of those other theories people are spouting."

Grace nodded eagerly in agreement. It was more than a hunch, too; she was so relieved to learn her niece shared that same deep certainty. She had thought on more than one occasion that a seance with Charity, some one who shared the Standish sixth sense, might unearth some answers. Now she opened her mouth to propose it but her niece got there first. "Grace, I think we should try to reach Eve now."

"Yes! But how do we do it?" Neither had ever attempted something like this.

Charity didn't know with certainty either, but felt they should eschew all the stereotypical seance trappings. No incense, no candles. Instead they set their tea aside and moved into the living room where a framed photo of the Bennett and Russell families was on the mantle. The picture had been taken a few years prior. Grace and Eve stood side by side in the middle of the big group, bookended by Sam and TC. Even Noah had been there. Everyone was smiling and Grace felt such a pang of nostalgia and longing for the old days. She was happy to be with David, to know the truth of their past together, and to finally be able to build a relationship with her son. But everything seemed so much simpler back then.

They lay the photograph face up on the coffee table and then knelt down on either side, clasping hands over it.

"Here goes nothing..." Charity said. "Spirits. God. Universe. Forces of power. We call on you now. We seek Eve Russell."

A chill ran through them both and the lights flickered but stayed on.

"Please," said Grace, not sure whom she was imploring but feeling that there were forces around them now that might be responsive or that could be tapped into with the right concentration. "Eve is my best friend. We want to know where she is. What has happened to her and TC and what we can do to bring them back."

Energies in the room could now be felt around them, almost physically. Both women sensed them, passing over the furniture and around their bodies; it was like the magic that surrounds all life was taking on a ... a corporeal-yet-invisible state. Charity and Grace both knew in that moment they were making progress. And that letting go of the other's hand would break this tentative spell they'd somehow cast.

"Let's close our eyes," Charity suggested in a whisper. They did and it was like they were stepping from their bodies now, walking through a lightless world, wading through what moved and felt like an odourless smoke. They held hands as they walked.

"Eve??" Grace called out. Her voice seemed to disappear in the distance.

"TC! Eve! Where are you??" Charity shouted. "Grace, I'm scared. Where are we?"

But before Grace could answer, their surroundings slowly faded into view. They were standing in an almost-empty parking lot. Not far away, a man and woman were deep in conversation, standing outside a 1965 Plymouth. It was nighttime.

"Who are they?" Charity whispered.

"I can't tell from here, but we need to find out. Excuse me!" Grace said, waving her free hand at them. "Excuse me!"

Grace led Charity across the parking lot towards the people. Were they a couple? Neither turned to look at them. They were deep in conversation.

"Sorry to bother you," Grace said, stepping up beside them. "We..."

Neither the man nor the woman seemed to notice them. It was like they couldn't see or hear Charity and Grace. But this wasn't what caused Grace's words to catch in her throat. The woman was Eve! Or at least it was a young version of Eve. Grace recognized her from an old photo she'd seen once. Eve wore a pair of denim bellbottoms and a striped blouse she'd tied in a knot at her midriff. And the man.. the man looked like a young Julian Crane!

"You don't understand," young-Eve was saying. "If we don't go soon, we're going to lose our chance."

"But Eve, we've tried everything. I don't know what more we can do to find him."

"I do. Julian, I know this sounds crazy, but I know who we need to talk to."

"How?"

"It's... it's too hard for me to explain, but you need to trust me."

"Eve!!" Grace tried again to reach her. This time, Grace put a hand forward to touch Eve on the shoulder, but her hand passed through as if Eve was a ghost.

'Except _I'm_  the ghost...' thought Grace.

Eve shivered.

"What's wrong?" young-Julian asked her.

"I don't know, just this weird feeling all of a sudden."

Grace's eyes widened. This past version of Eve had sensed her touch.

Julian pulled her close to him and went to kiss her but she pushed him back.

"Now what? Eve, you've been acting so strange. For months now, every time I see you—"

"I don't want you to kiss me. I don't feel that way about you anymore. But Julian, we need to work together to find our son and spare him a life of heartache. To save him making a terrible mistake one day."

Son? Grace and Charity exchanged perplexed looks. The attempted kiss had shocked them too. What were they witnessing?

"When did things change between us?" Julian asked.

Eve looked exasperated. "Please Julian, don't question this. Can't we just focus on—"

At that moment, Grace tried again to reach out to her best friend, but in the process she let go of Charity.

"Grace, no!" Charity cried. But it was too late. The scene in front of them evaporated instantly and they were standing in the B&B's living room.

"No!" Grace said, putting her hands to her face. "Fuck!" The word sounded so strange coming from Grace, who never swore.

"What _was_ that?" Charity said. "It looked like we were seeing Eve when she was my age! And with... Julian Crane? Were they... were they a couple?"

"No," Grace said. "At least... Eve never told me about that. She's always reviled Julian and the Cranes. I don't see how that could be possible. TC never would dated, let alone married, Eve if she had been with Julian Crane before. Did you see where they were? I didn't recognize the parking lot. It didn't look like Harmony to me."

Charity agreed.

"They were talking about a son. Searching for a son. You're positive Eve never said something about this to you?"

"Positive. We have to go back," Grace said, taking Charity's hands and squeezing them. But both women knew it wasn't going to be that simple. The magic and energy they'd felt all around them earlier was gone. But the vision of Eve left them both more sure than ever she wasn't dead, even if it had been a kind of flashback.

"How can we find present-day Eve? And TC. And how can we actually communicate with her, not jut stand there??" Grace was pacing the room. Then she stopped. "Charity, I know we weren't going to conduct a cliched seance, but maybe..."

She left the room and returned minutes later with a flat box tucked under one arm. She set it down on the coffee.

"A Ouija board?" Charity sounded incredulous. "Aunt Grace, I don't know.. Those things never work."

"But it's worth a try, isn't it? Maybe we can contact present-day Eve. Maybe we can actually speak to her this way."

Charity was skeptical, but willing to try anything. In her young life she'd already witnessed so much magic and unexplainable events, what was so impossible about something like the Ouija board actually working?

They set it up, this time lighting candles and turning off the overheard lights. They placed their fingers on the planchette and took a deep, here-we-go breath.

"Spirits," said Grace, trying to imagine what people said while talking to these things, "we ask for your guidance. Will you help us?"

The silence in the room was deafening. If John or David had come home at that moment, both women would have jumped out of their skin. Slowly, the planchette began to move, painfully slow, across the board to point at YES. Charity felt her pulse quicken. She knew that neither of them had pushed the planchette. Their fingers were barely touching it.

"Let's do this," she whispered, more to herself than Grace. "Are Eve and TC alive?"

YES.

"Can we speak to them?"

W-H-I-C-H O-N-E-?

"Eve," said Grace without hesitation. She didn't know how any of this magic worked, but she was certain her friendship with Eve would make communication through the Ouija board easier, clearer.

They waited in the candlelight for a few minutes, then Grace spoke again: "Eve? Are you there?"

YES.

"You're alive! Everyone's been so worried!"

M-Y G-I-R-L-S-?

"They're OK! Whitney is in LA and Simone is still here in Harmony. They're heartbroken and lost without you and TC." Tears had begun streaming down Grace's cheeks. "Eve, people are saying that you and TC ran away together to start over. Is that true?"

NO.

"Were you injured in the earthquake?"

NO.

"Are you trapped somewhere?"

YES.

"Do you know where??"

This time the planchette moved back and forth between YES and NO.

"Where, Eve? Tell us and we will come and get you. I'll tell Sam and Luis. We'll call the FBI - whatever it takes!"

When spelling words, the planchette moved at a snail's pace. It was getting warmer beneath their fingers, as if hundreds of tiny machines were working overtime inside the cheap plastic to make it slide of its own volition. Eventually it spelled: B-O-S-T-O-N.

"Boston? You're in Boston?"

YES.

"And TC's with you?"

NO.

"Do you know where he is?"

H-A-R-M-O-N-Y.

Grace and Charity's eyes widened. The room felt icy cold and yet the plastic game piece beneath them was red hot. (It was actually making them sweat.) Had TC been in Harmony this entire time? But if so, where could he be hiding? And _who_ could be hiding him?

"Where Eve? Where is TC??" cried Charity desperately.

S-A-M-S H-O-U-S-E.

The planchette was now so hot it was beginning to burn both women's fingers. It was like an iron slowly heating up. Before they could ask it another question, it moved down to the bottom of the board, to the band of painted numbers.

.....1.......

.........9 ........

It didn't seem to be finished moving but finally could go no further. The plastic began melting. Now Grace and Charity had no choice but to pull their fingers away as quickly as they could. Even a fraction of a second longer and they would had boiling plastic stuck to their fingertips.

They scrambled away from the coffee table, watching the planchet dissolve into a puddle of bubbling, beige goop and spread across the Ouija board.

Charity stood and flicked on the living room lights. The candles, as if evidence of the magic leaving the room, blew out on their own, the room stinking of smoke and melted plastic. Normally Grace would have hurried to open a window, fearful the stench would settle into the drapery and the sofa fabric. But such things could not have been further from her mind right now.

"TC is at Sam's??" she said in disbelief. "And Eve is in Boston?"

"That... That's not possible. At least the TC part," said Charity. "How could he be there? I live in that house!"

But Grace couldn't be deterred.

"We have to go right now," she said. "Are you coming?"

"Of course!"

 


	11. Chapter 11

Across town, Sam and Ivy were necking on the living room couch like a couple of teenagers. Kay had gone to bed early with Maria, Charity was with Grace, and Jessica was out at the movies with Reese.   
  
"Sam, we should stop. Some one could walk in on us at any minute," said Ivy, not actually wanting him to stop.   
  
In that moment, Sam wouldn't have cared if even _his parents_ came in the front door and caught them like this. He had one hand up the front of her shirt, the other around her back, as they kissed passionately. He was so turned on he thought he might burst before either of them had even undressed. He knew, too, that even if he did lose himself to overeagerness, it would only be a matter of minutes before he was ready to go again.   
  
"I want you so bad, Ivy," he said. Everything about her was intoxicating to him. The softness of her skin, the smell of her body, the taste of her sweat.   
  
"I want you too. But maybe we should relocate," she said, glancing at the door. "Let's go upstairs, OK?"  
  
Sam smiled. They stood and Ivy hadn't taken more than a step before Sam lifted her up like she weighed nothing at all.  
  
"This will be faster," he said with a wink. In no time, they were on the second floor — Sam having climbed the stairs two at a time, not slowed at all by the woman in his arms. He could feel himself growing, his muscle swelling, his shirt getting tighter and straining against his body. The changes should have scared him, but the power they brought with them just turned him on all the more and made him that much more eager to be with Ivy. For her part, she was so caught up in the moment that his larger, more muscle-bound physique did not register. Other changes would be harder to ignore if they cropped up...  
  
Not bothering to turn on the lights, Sam tossed Ivy several feet so she landed with a bounce on their king size bed, cushioned by a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. She giggled. "I can't remember the last time I've seen you this way!" she said.   
  
Sam grinned, unaware that his teeth were looking increasingly canine. The room's darkness kept them hidden from Ivy as well. His t-shirt was growing so tight that its short sleeves were straining against his biceps, then they finally split. Feeling like the Incredible Hulk, Sam reached up to his collar and literally tore the shirt off, ripping it in half. Ivy could make out Sam's shape across the room through the darkness and marvelled at how muscular he was; even more so than she'd realized. How had he managed to get even _more_ buff without her noticing before?   
  
But the questions only flickered in the back of her mind. What she wanted more than anything was for Sam to come rip her blouse to pieces the way he had his own shirt.   
  
"Come and get me," she whispered.   
  
He stepped out of his pants, clad only in boxer shorts, and moved towards the bed — a single bar of moonlight through the curtains illuminating him as he walked by the window. What Ivy saw stole the breath from her lungs — and not in a good way...  
  
Sam wasn't Sam anymore. The man that approached her now large and hairy, his shoulders so broad as to make him almost hunch forward. He was bearded, his eyes glinted as though they were flecked with gold, and his fingers were tipped with claws. He climbed onto the bed in a way that he clearly intended to be seductive. It creaked beneath his weight. Ivy's mouth hung open in horror. Sam stopped his advance, kneeling on the bed in front of her.   
  
"Ivy? What's the matter?"  
  
Now she was able to find her voice and she let out an ear-splitting shriek.  
  
Meanwhile, Grace and Charity were nearing the Bennetts' house.   
  
"Gosh, Kay won't be happy to me..." mumbled Grace, more to herself than Charity.   
  
"That's assuming she's not with Miguel," her niece said. Something in that tone of voice gave Grace pause.   
  
"Is everything ok between you two?"   
  
Charity sighed. "Yes and no. Miguel's been acting really strange lately. He's been distant, moody. We'll make plans but he won't show up. And he's spending a lot more time with Kay." Then she added, quickly, "Not that I blame him. I mean, they have a little girl together. I get it."  
  
Grace gave Charity a sympathetic look. There wasn't much she could say. Charity was right that Miguel and Kay were always going to be attached through Maria, and that this was perfectly reasonable. Grace just hoped for the sake of her niece that Maria didn't become a wedge between her and Miguel.   
  
But with the prospect of finding TC and Eve at the forefront of her mind, these thoughts about her niece and daughter were fleeting. She sped up until at last they were pulling up in front of her old house. No sooner had Charity unlocked the front door than they heard a woman screaming elsewhere in the house. It was Ivy!  
  
They raced upstairs heading straight for the master bedroom. Kay was standing in the hallway outside their door. Maria was crying from down the hall.   
  
"What's happening??" Charity asked.   
  
"I don't know! I just woke up not even a minute to the sound of.. this!"  
  
Grace rattled the knob, then banged her palm on the door.   
  
"Ivy! Sam! What's wrong??"  
  
They could hear movement inside the room, but Ivy continued to scream. "HELP!" she cried, panic ringing in her voice.   
  
"We have to get in there," said Charity.   
  
Grace nodded, then began ramming her shoulder against the door. Sam and the men in her life always made this look so damned easy but she felt like she was just bruising her shoulder. Inside the room, Ivy's screams stopped. A new sense of urgency overcame the women and now Charity joined her aunt in ramming the door. Just as they were hearing the door start to splinter, the lock clicked on the other side and Sam pulled it open. Grace and Charity stumbled forward into the bedroom.   
  
"Grace? Charity? What is going on??"  
  
"We heard Ivy screaming! We should be asking you what's going on!" Grace said.   
  
Ivy was sitting on the bed fully clothed. Sam, however, was standing in his boxer shorts. Sam opened and closed his mouth, looking helpless, like he didn't know what to say.   
  
"I was having a nightmare," said Ivy.   
  
"A nightmare?" Kay, Grace, and Charity all sounded incredulous. Even Sam was looking stupefied.  
  
"Yes. A very bad nightmare."  
  
"But... You were screaming for so long," said Kay.   
  
"Maybe the technical term is 'night terror'?" said Ivy. "Sam didn't wake me right away because.. you know what they say, that you should never wake someone who's sleepwalking. Well, it's the same for nightmares."  
  
"I've never heard that before," said Kay.   
  
"You were sleeping in your clothes?" asked Grace.   
  
"Excuse me, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" Ivy said haughtily. "What I want to know is what _you're_  doing here!"  
  
Now Kay wheeled on her mother, seeming to forget about the episode with Ivy and her father. "Yeah! What are you doing here? This isn't your house anymore. Not since you left our family to be with David."  
  
Grace blanched. Charity stepped in.   
  
"I brought her here. This is still my home too."  
  
'Not if I had my way...' thought Kay, bitterly.   
  
"Charity was at my house. We.. We have reason to believe we know where TC and Eve are."  
  
At this, the others gasped. Sam stepped forward. "What are you talking about?" He was in full police mode now. His transformation in front of Ivy left his mind for the time being. He grabbed a t-shirt that was folded atop the dresser and pulled it on. "Where??"  
  
Charity hesitated. "We think they're in two places. Eve is in Boston and TC is..."  
  
"Here," said Grace. "In this house."  
  
"What do you mean?" Kay asked. She and Sam and Ivy all looked perplexed. 

"TC is somewhere in this house," Grace repeated.

"We think!" Charity quickly put in. 

"Who told you this?" Sam demanded.

Grace and Charity glanced at each other. Grace sighed and said, "This is going to sound ridiculous but... We had a seance and contacted Eve through a Ouija board. She not only says that she and TC are alive, but that TC is here. In your house, Sam."

Sam squinted at Grace, trying to discern whether or not this was some sort of bizarre prank. Before he could reach his own conclusion, Kay (who had darted back to her room just long enough to grab Maria and return with the whimpering baby in her arms) spoke up: "That is the craziest thing I've ever heard. You used a Ouija board? You know those things are mass-produced in a factory by Parker Brothers, right?"

"I know how this must sound," Grace said. "But I wouldn't have barged in here like this if it wasn't the truth."

"I wouldn't put it past you," said Ivy. 

"Excuse me?"

"You want to see your granddaughter," Ivy said, pointing at baby Maria, who had calmed down now and was already drifting off to sleep against Kay's shoulder. "You'd stop at nothing to see her. Come up with any excuse. I'm a grandmother now, too, so I understand the desire. I want to see baby Sarah so badly it hurts some days, but I know they'll be back in Harmony next month. Of course, I also didn't abandon Ethan and Gwen, the way you did _your_ family..."

Grace felt a flash of anger but suppressed it. Finding Eve and TC was much more important. 

"Ivy, I can assure you, Aunt Grace is telling the truth. This isn't a ploy to get in the house. If it was, surely we could have come up with a better excuse than this!"

Kay rolled her eyes.

Of course who was Kay to dispute the notion of a functioning Ouija board? She spent her days with Tabitha — a 300-year-old witch with a magic bowl she used like a CCTV screen! Not to mention what was going on with Miguel right now ... Kay knew perfectly well there was nothing impossible about the Ouija story, however, she also needed to maintain the appearance of skepticism when it came to witchcraft. She didn't want anyone getting wise to her and Tabitha's frequent magical machinations...

Ivy and Sam, too, were in no position to dismiss Grace's claim. Only minutes ago Sam had transformed into a half-wolf monster! But now Ivy saw another opportunity to turn the Bennetts against Grace. She was acting off instinct. Maybe it was also the shock of witnessing Sam's transformation and then return to his regular self; she seemed to have temporarily pushed that aside in her mind. Her focus was on further damaging Grace's appearance in Sam's eyes.

"Please," Grace said. She almost told them about the vision they'd had of a young Eve talking to Julian in a parking lot, but she decided against it. She trusted that what she saw was real, but didn't think this was the best place to mention it. She would tell Sam, if she could ever get him alone. "We specifically asked Eve where she was and she said Boston. And when we asked about TC, she said 'Sam's house'. Please let us search the house. Is it possible there's... I don't know, maybe a hidden passage we're not aware of?"

"Grace, our house is practically new! We just had it built a couple years ago!" Sam said. He was referring to when their home was sucked into hell by demons. It had destroyed the entire house and forced the girls to stay with Tabitha, while Sam stayed in a hotel. That separation had been difficult for them both, but their marriage had endured. The fact that  _demons_  forced them to rebuild the house only made any Ouija board incredulity that much more ridiculous. And yet the mortals of Harmony — a place where strange and supernatural events occurred often — seemed to lose track of these strange happenings in their minds. While Grace, Charity, and others with special powers never forgot them, for others the memory of demons, zombies, ghosts, and curses tended to fade or become hazy, if not altogether vanishing. 

"But..." Grace was floundering now. "What if.. What if the contractors installed a secret room without our knowledge? In the basement perhaps? This is a big house. Anything's possible!"

"Mom, you should listen to what you're saying. You're certifiably crazy," Kay said. "All in favour of letting mom tear this place apart in search of some hidden closet where TC has been hiding out for months?"

Charity and Grace raised their hands. 

"And those opposed?"

Now Ivy and Kay raised theirs.

"Well dad? What'll it be?"

All eyes were on Sam now. He felt terrible. He was a fucking  _werewolf_ now. Who was he to tell Grace she was crazy? But he also thought about Ivy, his love, who he'd nearly scared to death mere moments ago. He still didn't know how he was going to explain any of this to her, let alone how she would take it. And they were finally on track in their renewed relationship. Did he want to go against Ivy in favour of his ex-wife? Especially when Grace's suggestion that their house had a secret passage in the basement made no sense, even in a world of magic. He had seen the blueprints. He'd helped out with construction. He knew the house inside and out — it was a replica of his childhood home — so any search of the property would be totally fruitless. 

Still, any chance of finding TC was so important to Sam. Perhaps more important than crossing Ivy. TC was his oldest and best friend. They'd grown up together. They trusted and confided in each other the way only best friends can. Hell, TC was the only person Sam had ever confided in about what had happened at the police academy when they were fresh out of high school. Not even Grace knew about that... 

"Sam?" Ivy asked, putting a hand on his elbow.

Grace was starting at him, pleadingly. 

Sam took a deep breath.

"I have to agree with Kay and Ivy. This is ludicrous Grace. You and Charity obviously believe something reached out to you through that Ouija board, but you're mistaken. TC is not here." 

Kay and Ivy smiled. Grace looked utterly crestfallen. 

"Now get out, mother," Kay said. "I need to put Maria back to bed." Kay's tone made it seem as though it was Grace's arrival, not Ivy's screaming, that had woken the baby. 

Ivy said nothing. At first Grace didn't move until Sam said, "Grace, it's time to go. We all need to get to sleep. Especially Maria."

Charity walked her aunt downstairs to the front door. 

"I'm so sorry, Grace," she said, sorrowfully. "I know they're wrong. They've got to be. I'll search every inch of the house. And the back yard. And when I find TC, they'll see you're not crazy. That  _we're_ not crazy."

Grace felt almost nauseous. She had been so certain they were going to find TC. Instead, she was being tossed out of her old home. 

She walked back to her car numbly.

"There's still Boston," she said aloud. "I'm not giving up you Eve. I promise."

 


	12. Chapter 12

With Grace gone, Kay back in her room, and Charity also in hers, Sam and Ivy went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea. Sam happened to noticed the light was on next door at Tabitha's. "Man that woman keeps strange hours," he said, wanting to talk about anything but what had transpired that night. Of course he knew that was impossible. Ivy hadn't been having a nightmare. She'd seem him change.

"Sam..." she said. "What happened up there?"

They both knew she wasn't talking about the bizarre episode with Grace and Charity.

He took her hand and led her into the living room. He wanted to be closer to the front door so that he could hear Jessica when she got back from the movies.

"Ivy, I don't know how to say this in a way that won't sound... utterly insane."

"Try me."

The look in her eyes told him he wasn't a freak. At least not to her. But he had to be honest. He had to let her know the truth. So he told her everything. About the attack in the park last month, about the silver bullet made from her locket and how it had killed the beast. He told her about the changes that would come over him, almost always at night and never of his own volition. Ivy was silent the whole time, never touching her cup of tea, which grew cold by the end of his story.

"I'm a monster," he said, staring down at his hands, half expecting them to grow hair and claws. "A freak. I thought werewolves only exist in the movies. Not only are they real, but now I am one. And I don't know how to cure myself of this."

If Ivy hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would've thought Sam had lost his marbles. When he'd climbed on their bed before, huge and hairy with yellow eyes and sharp teeth, it was like something else had slipped into the room and replaced Sam. But now, hearing his story and looking back, she could see in her mind's eye that it _had_ been Sam. Sure, a furrier, more muscular, terrifying version, but it had been Sam. It was obvious now. And while the creature had looked vicious and dangerous in the moment, seeing Sam now, wracked with.. almost guilt, his eyes downcast and watery, his lip trembling like he might breakdown and cry. It was like he was confessing a foreign and inoperably medical condition. She wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and comfort him. Protect him.

"Sam, I never thought we'd ever face something like this. I thought monsters were something from the movies, too, and nothing more. But then again, I also have always believed in fate. That we were destined to be together and that no matter what, the universe was always guiding us back together. And really, what is fate or destiny than a kind of supernatural force?"

This was self-delusion on Ivy's part. If "fate" meant her stopping at nothing to undermine Sam's marriage, then its existence was indisputable. If it was a kind of magic, working independently, then that existence was dubious at best. But her love for him was real, with or without fate.

Sam felt a faint tingling sensation spread through him. 'Oh god,' he thought. 'Not now.'

Dark brown hair was beginning to sprout on the backs of his hands. He could feel his fingernails lengthening and sharpening. The couch springs squeaked ever so slightly as he began to bulk up.

Ivy put her hands over his.

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of what's happened to you and what you've become."

His transformation stopped, then abated.

"We'll figure this out together. We'll go to the library. We'll go on the internet. Heck, we'll ask Tabitha! Everyone always said she's a witch, right?" They both laughed. It felt good to be able to joke, even amidst such strangeness.

"Thank you Ivy." He kissed her then. "I promise I will never hurt you."

There was a sound outside from the curb. A car pulling up. Jessica was back.

"Let's go upstairs," Ivy said, returning his kiss. "Maybe we can finish what we started earlier."

Sam raised his eyebrows. He smiled and nodded. He could feel a part of him growing again, but this time the physical change was entirely human...


	13. Chapter 13

"Grace, go back to bed," David said when Grace entered the kitchen. She was wearing a bathrobe, her hair was mussed, and she had bags under her eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

She considered lying, but something told her the truth was written all over her face.

"There'll be time enough for sleeping when I've found Eve," she said.

David had tried to be supportive when Grace got home from Sam's house the night before and explained all that had transpired. He listened to everything she said, nodding along, holding her hands as they sat at the foot of their bed. Of course it all sounded crazy to David. It took all his self-restraint to turn off the journalist in him and not pepper her with questions, poking holes in her story. Whatever Grace and Charity had experienced or thought they experienced, there had to be a logical explanation. David found the melted planchette atop the Ouija board when he arrived home from work, with Grace no where to be found. After hearing her explanation, he wondered if maybe a candle had fallen on the plastic and caused it to melt — Grace could be trying to cover up her mistake with the candle, or maybe fumes from the melting plastic had caused Grace and Charity to hallucinate?

"You aren't serious about going to Boston today, are you?"

Now Grace looked at him at those _he_  was the crazy one.

"David, Eve is in Boston. I'm positive. She used to live there before she moved to Harmony — maybe her past life there has something to do with why she's 'trapped' there." Grace remembered the vision she'd shared with Charity, of a young Julian and Eve talking about a son together. Grace had even shared this part with David. If he'd been taking this seriously, he would have mentally filed that in his head as possible blackmail material, should Eve ever return and threaten to expose Ivy's plot. Eve was the only person in Harmony apart from Kay and Ivy who knew the truth of their deception.

"No, Grace. You can't. You're in no state to drive. If you want to go to Boston, I'll take you there as soon as I get off work today. Ok?"

Grace agreed and David, unwisely, believed her. He went off to work and Grace hopped in the shower. If she was going to do this, she'd needed to leave now. However, no sooner had Grace dressed than the phone rang. She ignored it, but the answering machine came on she heard the voice of her niece: "Aunt Grace, if you're home please pick up."

She snatched the cordless phone off its receiver and pushed TALK. "Charity?"

"Oh good you're there."

"What's up? What did you find?" No time for small talk.

Charity hesitated on the other end of the line. She hated to disappoint. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything. I've searched every inch of the house, run my hands along all the walls in case maybe, just maybe, there is a hidden door somewhere that could be concealing TC."

Grace sighed. Somehow she wasn't surprised, but that didn't make the news any less disappointing.

"I tried to keep an open mind. Tried to tap into.. you know, my powers, to see if they could reveal something supernatural that was hiding TC, but nothing happened."

Grace rubbed her forehead, looking anxiously at the clock and feeling a twinge of self-doubt for the first time since all this began.

"Maybe... Aunt Grace, is it possible that what we saw was wrong? That we were mistaken?"

"No," Grace said flatly. "I refuse to delude myself about what I _know_ happened."

"Maybe it happened, but there was some evil force trying to trick us? Throw us off the trail?"

This was maybe possible, but Grace didn't want to concede that out loud. What about Boston? Where they'd seen the vision of young Eve and Julian. Something told Grace deep in her soul that Eve was there right now, she was in Boston. She was about to say as much when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. John bounded into the front hall, where Grace had come with the phone.

Instead of mentioning Boston, Grace said, "I'm still not convinced. But I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, Charity." She pushed END.

"Charity? What was she calling about?"

Grace smiled like it was nothing and waved him off. "Not important. How are you doing?" She didn't want to drag her son into this unnecessarily. Especially since he had been distant and distracted lately; she wanted to be closer to him, not potentially push him away.

"I'm good. Just going to head over to Miguel's. Maybe shoot some hoops."

"It's not a little cold for that?" Grace asked, looking out the window.

"I meant down at the community centre," he said quickly. "Do you mind if I take your car?"

"Actually John, I need that today. I have errands to run." It hurt her to lie like this. But she saw no other way. And if she got on the road soon, maybe she could be back before it got too late. Maybe David would be staying late at the office and not even know she was ever gone.

John sighed irritably. "Fine. I guess I'll just call him and get him to pick me up."

"I can drop you off on my way—"

"No no, it's fine. Miguel won't mind." John took the cordless phone from Grace's hand and walked into the den, shutting the door behind him. On any other day Grace might have found that odd. When John returned, he went to the porch and grabbed his coat. "I'm going to start walking. He said he'll pick me up between here and the centre."

"OK. Just be sure to button up that coat, ok?" Grace said.

"Yes mother," John said, pretending to be a petulant kid. She responded by pinching him on the cheek like a doting granny. They both laughed, then he was gone.

She watched him out the window until he rounded the bend, then went immediately in to the den and pulled out a map of Boston from the filing cabinet next to the family computer. She took it into the dining room and spread it out over the table. All her memories of Boston before the apartment fire that nearly took her life were gone, but she had still lived there a couple years after the amnesia, before moving to Harmony to be with Sam. She hoped that in the intervening she hadn't totally forgotten her way around the city. Or that it hadn't changed too dramatically during this time...

She traced her finger along the streets, remembering the routes she would take from the boarding house where she rented a room to the diner where she'd worked to her favourite park, the one she'd go with her book on muggy summer days. She stared intently at the map, letting her fingers glide over its surface. She hoped to reconnect with the magic from last night, to feel some sort of spark. Several times she thought she felt _something_  and whenever that happened, she marked the spot where her finger had been with a little X in pencil. She thought about the empty parking lot where she and Charity had found themselves, invisible, listening in on a conversation between young Eve and Julian.

_"If we don't go soon, we're going to lose our chance."_

_"But Eve, we've tried everything. I don't know what more we can do to find him."_

_"I do. Julian, I know this sounds crazy, but I know who we need to talk to."_

What had they been talking about? Grace also wondered if that parking lot held any clues. Judging by Eve and Julian's appearance, their conversation had taken place some time in the early 70s. It seemed unlikely there would be anything left at that location to indicate—

Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the front door. It so startled Grace that she jumped, accidentally dragging a fingernail across the map and leaving a small tear on part of it.

She went to the door, her heart pounding, half-expecting to find Eve or TC on the other side. Who she saw was equally surprising — Sam.

"Sam!" she said, opening the door. He was on the stoop, hands jammed in his pockets against the cold. He smiled apologetically.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," she said. Relief flooded through her at the sight of his smile. After last night, she wasn't sure he would ever want to see her again. "Come in, come in. It's definitely feeling less like fall and more like winter these days."

"If this keeps up, it'll feel like we're living in Alaska by the time Christmas rolls around."

Grace almost offered him some coffee, but looking at the clock over the stove in the kitchen, she knew she couldn't afford to waste any more time. For an awkward second, neither knew what to say, but then Sam spoke.

"Is anyone else home? Is David here?"

"No, he's at work. John just left with Miguel."

"Huh. That's odd. I passed John on my way here. But he was with Pilar, not Miguel."

Grace was momentarily confused. "I thought John said Miguel was picking him," she murmured, more to herself than Sam. "They were going to the community centre."

"They weren't driving that way when I passed them."

"Pilar must have needed to borrow Miguel's car, so went to pick John up instead. Maybe he and Miguel decided to play video games or something and she was taking John there."

Sam frowned. "Miguel's an adult with a daughter. I think he should be focused on his kid — our _granddaughter_ — and not sitting around on the couch playing N64." Miguel and Kay weren't teenagers anymore, yet sometimes, despite their new roles as parents, they still felt like kids to him. He knew Miguel was working hard at a local garage, so it's not like he was just sitting on his ass all week long. Still, Miguel seemed to be gaining weight, which made Sam wonder just how often he got together with John and Reese for game days like this...

"Is that what you came here about? To discuss Miguel?"

"No, sorry," Sam said. "I came here because..." That's when he saw the map out on the dining room table. Without thinking, he walked towards it. Grace hurried ahead, intending to get there first and hide what she was doing. "What's this?"

She sighed. She'd already lied to her husband and son today, she couldn't handle any more.

"I'm going to Boston."

Sam examined the map, the little X's in pencil, the small tear Grace had made with her fingernail.

"This is about the seance, isn't it? I remember last night you said you and Charity thought TC is at my house and Eve is in Boston."

Grace nodded.

"I made the mistake of telling my husband about this and now he probably thinks I'm crazy. I don't need that from my ex-husband, too." She reached for the map but Sam put out a hand to stop her.

"I don't think you're crazy," he said. "I believe you. Or at least I believe that you believe what you saw. This world is so crazy, who am I to say there couldn't be something like what you described. A message through a Ouija board saying Eve is in Boston — stranger things have happened, right?" And now he thought about his transformation last night, how he had revealed himself — his curse — to Ivy and nearly got caught by the rest of his family, too. "Let me come with you. If Eve really could be in Boston, I want to help you find her."

Grace felt a lump in her throat. All her years of love for Sam were hard to ignore. He was still the man who fell in love with her in that shitty little diner in Boston all those years ago. The man who would do anything for her, even if they were no longer married. No longer together...

"Let's do this," she said. She started to fold the map up on the table when she noticed the little rip. It was right on top of what looked like a parking lot...


	14. Chapter 14

Neither Grace nor Sam could remember the last time they'd been alone together. Neither spoke of it now, but the emergence of David and John in their lives marked the end of any happiness they'd shared just the two of them. For more than 20 years, they never lacked for conversation. Now though, the drive was punctuated with bouts of awkward silence. It was hard for Sam to ask about her new family, and equally hard for Grace to ask about Ivy. Even their shared granddaughter, Maria, was a source of hurt.

It was a clear day, the sun shining and tricking the eye into thinking it might be warm outside. It was actually bitingly cold. As the New England countryside whirred past them, Grace kept her eyes fixed on the road, her hands tight on the steering wheel. Sam tapped the glass of his window absentmindedly, alternating between trying to come up with something to talk about and remembering the passionate sex he and Ivy had had the night before, after she'd accepted his strange new fate as a werewolf. He'd left her sleeping that morning when he slipped out to go and meet with Grace.

Their eyes happen to meet in the rear view mirror, and they laughed weakly.

After a short silence, Grace finally said, "What's happened to us Sam? How did we end up like this?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" he asked, doing everything in his power to quell the sarcasm in his tone.

"I just mean.. I know that things will never be the same. Who could have guessed we were living in sin all those years. I guess I'd hoped that the friendship undergirding our romantic love, our marriage, was stronger than it turned out to be."

Those words hurt Sam. He hated that they'd ended up barely on speaking terms anymore. He had found happiness with Ivy and she with David, so why hold onto a grudge like this?

He softened.

"Well, it's not too late for us to start trying," he said. "Did I tell you Noah called to say he's planning a trip home?"

"For Christmas?" Grace asked, her hopes surging.

"No, he said the timing's just not quite right for Christmas this year. But in the spring he'll have wrapped up his graduate studies and be eager to come home for an extended visit. He's eager to meet his niece. And..." Now Sam's voice faltered a little. "His new half-brother, John..."

It was hard for Grace to believe that in all this time — through the re-emergence of her husband and son, the disintegration of her relationship with Sam, the earthquake in July — in spite of all this, her son Noah had still not been home. She yearned to see him again. Part of that yearning had to do with what he'd come to symbolize in for her — a simpler time, when she had her normal, nuclear family. Free of secrets, free of division.

"I hope his studies aren't too stressful right now," said Grace, choosing to paper over Sam's last comment.

"He's a smart guy," Sam said confidently. "I've never felt we had to worry about him."

Grace nodded. That persistent awkward silence threatened to settle back over them, so she attempted to keep the conversation from dying.

"What ever happened to Noah's namesake, your old friend, Noah Griswold?"

Sam felt his pulse quicken and lump form in his throat. He didn't like talking about Noah Griswold if he could avoid it. Grace and Noah had only met once, when she was pregnant with their firstborn, and had had an epiphany; she'd loved the name and no amount of cajoling by Sam could get her to change her mind. Their little guy _had_ to be Noah Bennett.

"Griswold died, Grace. You know that. I told you after it happened." This last part was a lie.

"He died??" Her eyes widened with surprise and she even turned her head to look at him. "Sam, I would have remembered you telling me something like that. How did he die?"

"Line of duty. I got a call from his sister probably... gosh, close to ten years ago now."

"Oh wow. Terrible," Grace said, genuinely sympathetic. Something about this story niggled at her mind, something was wrong about it, but she couldn't say what. She could find no reason he would lie about something like this. The men had been close, from their days at the police academy, and obviously Noah's death was painful for Sam. He must have wanted to keep that hurt to himself, to bottle it up; she wished she could reach over to him and rub his thigh, show him he didn't have to always be such a tough guy, such a "man" about these things.

But it was really no longer her place to make such gestures. That time had passed.

Sam stared out the window again, not wanting to engage in the conversation. Noah's sister had called to report the death to Sam, that much had been the truth. When the news came, Sam had deliberately kept it from his then-wife. Until that moment, Sam's secret from the policy academy had always lingered in the back of his mind, the one thing he'd ever kept from Grace. With Noah's death, Sam had finally been able to rest assured that the truth would be buried with him.

Still, the mention of that name had rattled Sam and conjured up feelings of guilt. He thought maybe he should come clean to Grace, unburden himself now. But he couldn't do that to her. So instead of saying anything he just continued to stare out the window. Soon they would be arriving in Boston. They had more important things to focus on right now.


	15. Chapter 15

"I feel something. It's that... that sense again. Eve was here."

They were standing outside a boarded up night club. This was the last "X" on Grace's map. Everywhere they had visited so far had provoked a similar feeling in her. The run-down apartment complex, the hospital, the swanky downtown hotel. At each of these places, Eve's invisible imprint was clear. Eve had been there, the question was when? Grace had no way of knowing if they'd just missed her or if Eve hadn't been there in decades. Looking at the club in front of them now, it didn't appear as though anyone had set foot in this place since at least the 1980s.

Sam stared up at the club's sign. Like the windows and doors of the building, uneven planks of wood had been hammered over its sign. A couple of the weathered old boards banged in the wind.

They were in a rough part of town, one that felt largely abandoned and forgotten, especially as the sun began setting and the shadows grew longer. Sam grabbed an old crate from nearby and dragged it below the sign, then climbed atop, yanking off the loose boards. His eyes widened.

 _The Blue Note_.

The lettering was identical to that of the jazz club Julian Crane had built in Harmony, the one that his son Fox had recently sold to Liz Sanbourne. Sam and Grace exchanged surprised expressions. Without saying a word, they both began tugging and prying at the boards covering the front entrance.

"It's no use," Sam said, wiping his brow. Neither had thought to bring a crowbar with them on this trip.

Grace closed her eyes and placed her palms on the boards, hoping that some of her unpredictable magic might rattle them loose or cause the nails to pop out. Instead an image flashed briefly across her brain.

"This way!" She led Sam around to the side of the building. There was an exposed window above an old generator of some kind. The glass was shattered and if Grace could just get on top of the generator, she knew she'd be able to get in. "Give me a boost, Sam."

"I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"Sam, c'mon, there's no time for us to argue about this. I've got a flashlight in my pocket. I'll be OK."

Sam looked unconvinced, but he obliged, helping her up onto the generator.

"I'll be back in a jiffy," she said with a wink that reminded Sam of the girl he'd fallen in love with and married oh so many years ago. And with that, Grace climbed through the broken window, careful to avoid the lip of jagged glass. Inside, beneath the window, was a large shelf from which she could easily climb down. The last rays of afternoon sunlight came through the window and illuminated the room — the kitchen — which was full of dust and the kind of mess left behind by racoons and other pests.

She made her way from the kitchen and out into the lounge area, turning on her flashlight. Her heart was racing. Could Eve be somewhere in here? Was this where she was "trapped"?

Outside Sam was pacing back and forth beneath the window. Grace had only been gone a few minutes but it felt like an eternity. He looked up at the window, at the large generator.

"If I could just get up there..."

That's when it occurred to him. He'd have to be careful, but if he concentrated just so, then maybe...

Sam's whole body tingled. He felt his shirt and jacket and pants all begin to tighten as fur sprouted beneath, as his muscles bulged. At that moment he sprang with all the force he could muster, landing easily atop the generator. His adrenaline was pumping and that intoxicating wolf energy was in him; he had to calm down, he couldn't let himself fully transform. He shut his eyes and focused on his normal form. Opening his eyes, Sam looked as his hands, expecting to see coarse brown fur but instead was met with only smooth, tanned skin. He was back. He smiled, pleased with himself.

"Grace," he whispered, climbing in through the window. He was stealthier than he'd ever been before, and he wondered if it had anything to do with this new wolf part of him. He hopped down from the shelf in the club's kitchen and landed silently. Once again, he tried to channel the wolf's abilities without transforming physically. He could smell Grace, could practically see the path she'd taken through the kitchen and into the central part of the club. "Grace!"

She let out a gasp and covered her mouth to stifle a scream.

"Sam?? How did you get in here?"

"I managed to find something to get me onto the generator," he lied. "Look at this place." The chairs and tables were still there, although coated in a thick layer of dust. There was even an old microphone stand festooned with cobwebs at centre stage. Near the box office at the entrance there was a pile of junk heaped to one side, including old tickets and crumpled performance posters and yellowed paperwork.

It was pretty obvious that no one had been in here for a long time. There wasn't a trace of any other living things in there except them and maybe a few rats in the walls. If any other humans had been in here recently, Sam would have smelled them. Of course he couldn't say this to Grace, but looking around with her flashlight it had become clear to her, too, that Eve was not being held prisoner in this old jazz club.

"Why did I sense something at these stupid locations?" she asked, exasperated. If she hadn't left her map of Boston in the car, she would have crumpled it up right then and there. "I've dragged us all the way up here and for nothing! Just a wild goose chase based on my silly 'premonitions,' if you can even call them that."

"Hey now," Sam put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Did you say there was one last place on your map?"

Grace thought about the random tear she'd made in it, right atop parking lot on the outskirts of town. Was that where she and Charity had seen young Eve? Or was that stretching even her own openness to mystic signs and meaning?

"I don't know," she sighed, sitting down at one of the tables and looking defeated.

Sam hated to see her that way. He scanned the room for any sign that there had been people here in recent days or weeks. Eve and TC had been gone for months, maybe they'd been taken here at the time of their disappearance but subsequently moved elsewhere. His wolf vision was incredible and he used it to peer into the furthest corners of the room, no matter how dark. That was when his gaze fell on the junk pile outside the box office. A face from one of the crumpled, ancient-looking posters caught his attention. Grace watched, puzzled, as he approached and then picked it up.

"Oh my god..." she said, clearly stunned.

He held in his hand a faded poster featuring a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Eve Russell, only 30 years younger. It read: "HOT NIGHTS, COOL JAZZ. EVE JOHNSON LIVE"

Grace took the poster from Sam and stared at it intently. This was Eve. She had no doubt. It was how Eve had appeared in the vision, in the parking lot with Julian.

"What is this?" Sam asked from over Grace's shoulder.

She didn't respond. Instead, Grace lay the poster atop the nearest table and spread it out as best she could. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel her hands tingling. The poster almost seemed to glow beneath them. "C'mon..." she whispered to it. "Do something."

Suddenly Grace could see the Blue Note as it had originally been, thirty years ago. There were patrons seated at the tables, a small band off to one side of the stage, and standing dead centre was Eve. She held a microphone, she sang softly, her eyes downcast. When she raised her head and smiled, a chill ran through Grace — through everyone in this spectral audience — and there was no doubt it was an accurate glimpse into the past life of Harmony's most respected and upstanding citizen.

Yet this vision was also different from what Grace and Charity had experienced the night before. Grace had truly felt as though they were in the parking lot with Eve and Julian. They had been transported between worlds. This was... this was some sort of projection. A memory that belonged to the Blue Note itself. Only Grace could see it, and when Sam spoke up, the lights and the images faded like ghosts in front of her.

"What is it, Grace?"

"I saw... I saw Eve. On the stage. I couldn't have talked to her, she was just a vision from the past, but this—" And now she held up the old poster. "I think this may help me get back to her. I think I can use it as a sort of talisman to open up a path to her."

The policeman in him told Sam it was ludicrous what she was saying. He opened his mouth to say so, but the werewolf in him stopped the words from coming out. Sam nodded, trusting that Grace knew what she was talking about. He certainly didn't.

"Do whatever you have to. If I can help, just say so."

"You can. You're a faster driver than me. I need you to get me to that parking lot I saw on the map."

"You're not going to do it here?"

Grace shook her head. Some instinct in her, the Standish abilities she and her niece had inherited, told her this wasn't the place. They had to get to that parking lot. That was where she and Charity had been last night during their seance. That was where she would find Eve. If they hurried.

Sam took the flashlight from her and pointed it towards the boarded up entrance. "Let's go."

"But Sam—"

He wasn't listening though. He clicked off the light. They were plunged into darkness.

"Sam! I can't see!"

In the dust-filled black she heard a grunt that was almost animal and then a loud sound as the club's door apparently came off its hinges. Grace flinched at the sound. Now thin streams of orange from the street light slid in through the boards that covered the entrance. She could make out Sam's silhouette as he kicked out one of the boards, then another. Enough for them to bend down and step out of the building.

"C'mon," Sam said, beckoning her. She was amazed. She knew how strong her ex-husband was but had no idea he was capable of something like this. As if reading her mind, Sam said, "I figured those hinges were nearly rusted off by now. Turns out I was right. Let's get out of here!"

Stepping into the street, they wasted no time rushing to Grace's car.

"Sam, your jacket, it's torn!" The seams where his shoulders met his sleeves were coming apart in places. He dismissed it with a wave.

"I've been long overdue for a new jacket. I'll get on that first thing tomorrow," he said as he opened the passenger door for her. "You got your map, navigator?"

She nodded.

And with that, they were flying through the city. Grace prayed no one tried to pull them over for speeding. She doubted Boston PD would care a whole lot about the excuses of some small-town police chief racing through their district. In no time at all they were on the other side of the city, this time in an industrial area. It was pretty quiet by now, much to their relief. They turned into an empty parking lot and Grace instantly recognized it from the night before. There were more buildings surrounding it and the lights were more modern, but this was it.

Grace was out of the car the moment it stopped. A light snow had begun to fall, there was maybe half an inch already covering the pavement.

"Now what?" asked Sam. Grace only half heard him. She was concentrating on the poster in her hands. "You said this might be a... talisman?"

"That's right," she said, not looking up from it. "A talisman is a magical object. Some item imbued with special significance that can channel energy. If it has the right conductor."

Sam realized Grace was that conductor. He felt the hairs stand up on his arms.

"I don't know how to explain it but I think this poster could be a key to finding Eve. To figuring out where she's been taken."

Grace walked forward slowly holding the poster out in front of her like it was a dinner plate, like she was offering it up to an unseen force. She didn't know what to say. She might have tried to make up some incantation on the spot, but something deep within her said that wouldn't be necessary. She concentrated on the face of her friend, she tried to remember what it felt like when she and Charity had appeared there the night before, stepping back into nineteen-seventy-whatever.

And without knowing how, suddenly she had. The air got slightly warmer. There was no snow on the parking lot and the distant sound of city traffic suddenly got further away. She looked behind her and Sam was gone. So was her car. So were many of the surrounding buildings.

She held her breath, scared it all might change back just as quickly.

She looked around and that's when she saw a parked car, the same one from the night before. She could make out two shapes in the front. That's when the engine started up.

"Wait!!" she shouted, and started running towards it across the lot. The Blue Note poster fluttered in her hand. The car was backing up and Grace waved frantically at them to stop. Mercifully, the break lights came on. "Eve!!" Grace still hadn't seen the car's occupants, but then the passenger door opened and sure enough, out stepped Eve Russell.

"Grace?? Is that really you?"

Now Eve was running, too, swiftly yet awkwardly in a pair of platform shoes. When the women met they embraced, Grace didn't pass through her like the previous night, they could actually touch each other.

"Grace!" she said. "When I sensed you here last night, when I heard your voice and did my best to respond, I knew I had to come back again tonight and hope you would return too. And now here you are! How did you get here?"

But Grace's head was spinning. It was Eve Russell — Eve Johnson, technically — and she couldn't be more than 25 years old. Grace saw her own reflection in the car's window but she was her normal self, not a young version.

"How did I get here? I.. I don't even know to be perfectly honest. A wing and prayer?"

Now the driver's door opened and out stepped Julian Crane.

"Who is this woman?" he asked. He indicated the performance poster in Grace's hand. "Are you some sort.. autograph hound?" He chuckled in spite of himself. "Eve, I always told you people won't be able to get enough of you if they hear that voice of yours."

But Eve wasn't listening. "Whitney, Simone — I got your message last night. You said they're OK. You said Whitney's in L.A. and Simone is still in Harmony, right?"

Julian looked perplexed.

Grace nodded. She remembered communicating with the Ouija board, except... why would 1970s-Eve have received that message? How could the woman standing in front of her know who Whitney and Simone are? Neither would have been born yet! And now a similar question came to Grace: If she had travelled back in time to the 1970s, how was it possible that Eve even knew who Grace Bennett was? Julian clearly didn't.

So much of what Grace had done today had been based on instinct. She had just followed her gut, gone wherever and done whatever her strange intuition told her. Taking the poster from the abandoned Blue Note to this parking had just felt like the right thing to do but Grace couldn't have said why or where she'd hoped it was going to take her.

"Eve," Julian said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I don't know who this is but if we're going to get to our son we have go now. We're going to miss our chance."

There was a frantic look in Eve's eyes, but she took a breath to calm herself.

"Julian, can you give us a moment?"

He opened his mouth to object, but then sighed. "Hurry," he said, walking around the driver's side of the car and leaning against it.

Grace looked into Eve's eyes and saw something in them. She saw Eve Russell, not Eve Johnson. Her best friend was there, in the body of this gorgeous young singer.

"So Grace, you don't know how you got here?"

"Not totally," she admitted. She thought about talismans and Ouija boards and seances, but wasn't sure how to articulate any of it. "But how did... How did  _you_  get here? There was an earthquake back in July and you and TC were just gone! Everyone's been worried sick."

"I wish I knew anything more than you do. One minute we were in the living of our house with Liz and the next minute we were... here, in this year, with these bodies. I can't explain any of it, it was like the past 30 years had all been a dream. Except both of us remember everything. We remember whole lives lived but have had no way to get back. We're trapped. It's complicated, too, because in this time Julian and I are — were — well, still together. And we have a son. A son who's been kidnapped by Alistair, and we're close to finding him." There were tears in her eyes now.

It was all too much information for Grace. She was trying to keep up but it was just one revelation after another. She took a breath and said weakly, "Wh-where's TC?"

"He's in Harmony. He's been staying at Sam's because... Again, it's complicated. I'll explain it to you later, for now Julian and I need to go or we're going to miss our chance to find our son and save him from a life of suffering. Alistair, that sadistic fuck..."

"Alistair disappeared, too, on the night of the earthquake," Grace said. "Could it be he was transported to this time, too?"

Eve scowled at the thought. "Anything is possible. If so, he's not taking this as an opportunity to relive life as a good man."

"Eve, please!" Julian called from the car. "I'm sorry to rush you, but we're almost out of time!"

She turned back to Grace with a pleading, apologetic expression. "I'm sorry Grace, I have to go."

"Go? You need to come with me!" Grace took Eve by the wrist in one hand, the Blue Note poster — her key — still clenched tightly in the other. The paper had begun to feel warm. It was all happening so fast.

Eve looked pained. "I can't. Not yet. Not without rescuing my son."

"Will that alter the future? Will he have grown up alongside Whitney and Simone in Harmony?"

"I don't think so. This world and that world, they're.. the same but I think they're... I think they're running on parallel tracks. If I could save him in this world, it's the least I can do. In  _our_  world — the one in which it's 2003 and I'm a doctor and you're my best friend — he'll still be out there, an adult man tormented by whatever fucked up childhood Alistair Crane subjected him to." 

That's when an idea came to Eve. She put a hand over Grace's and looked at her pleadingly. "Vincent Clarkson. That's his adoptive name. If I don't make it back to our time, I need you to promise me you'll find him and reconnect him with Julian. Tell him he was loved at birth and this wasn't our fault."

Grace could feel the poster in her hand heating up even more. She felt a surge of panic at the memory of the Ouija planchette heating up beneath her and Charity's fingertips, melting into a plastic puddle and breaking their spell.

"Eve, I can't bear to lose you! What will I tell everyone back home? What will I tell your daughters? No one will believe me."

"Then don't tell them. Not yet. It would only confuse and upset them. TC and I haven't given up trying to get back to your world. I just need more time. When I last spoke to TC, he said he may have found someone in Harmony who has knowledge that could help us. Knowledge of.. you know, the supernatural."

Grace's talisman was burning hot now. The skin was blistering on the palm of her hand. 

"Eve, please!" Julian shouted.

She opened her mouth to apologize to Grace, but the 'older' woman stopped her. "Go," Grace said. "And good luck. I'll find a way to rescue you and TC. I'm not sure how, but I'll find a way." They embraced. And then Eve was running back to car and climbing in the passenger seat. She couldn't bring herself to turn back to Grace one last time. Julian stared at Grace with an uneasy suspicion, then climbed behind the wheel and peeled away from her and out of the parking lot. 

Only now, standing alone in the mild November air, did Grace finally let go of the poster. As it fell from her red, scarred hand, the paper burst into flames. It was nothing but ash in a matter of seconds, and just as quickly Grace was standing in the falling snow of 2003. 

Sam had watched her vanish before his eyes earlier, leaving nothing but a dead end trail of footprints in the snow. Now she reappeared just as unexpectedly, only in a different part of the parking lot. 

"Grace!" He started running towards her. She didn't seem to hear him. She swayed unsteadily, then shut her eyes and collapsed.


	16. Chapter 16

Winter came early to Harmony that year. By the last week of November, there was a foot of snow on the ground and it didn't seem to have any plans of leaving before spring. Of course that could always change — this was New England after all.

Sam and Ivy continued their new relationship. The revelation that Sam was now a werewolf was a whole different kind of newness for both of them, but Ivy actually found it a turn on. There was a primal, animalistic edge to their love making, and sometimes she awoke to find Sam sleeping partly in his wolf man state — a full beard on his face, hair in other places where previously there had been none, his whole body bulked up and thick with extra muscle — and it turned her on to lie against him, like a lamb curled up with a lion.

She was less concerned about her physical safety than she was her emotional safety. When he was in Boston with Grace, Ivy had just assumed Sam was working late that night and forgot to tell her. However, David phoned at 10 p.m. asking if she knew anything about Sam's whereabouts and if he might be with Grace. David explained that Grace had talked about going to Boston, but was supposed to wait until after he finished up at the newspaper, then he'd planned to take her.

When Sam finally did get home that night, he initially lied and said he'd been at the station with Hank and Luis. Ivy called him out and he quickly recanted, apologizing profusely.

_"Don't get the wrong idea, Ivy. I was strictly doing this to help Grace get closure on her premonition about Eve and TC."_

She ultimately accepted his apology, but still had a residual nervousness. Was it possible that, despite everything she had done to thwart her, Grace might still be able to win Sam back? Was that even Grace's objective? Ivy wanted to put the scheming behind her but began to wonder if maybe she needed to go back to the drawing board and find a new way of keeping them apart...

In truth, Sam was not any closer to getting back with Grace. Their trip to Boston had opened up more questions for him — questions about the nature of reality more so than the nature of his relationship with his ex-wife — and brought him no closer to solving the mystery of Eve and TC's disappearance. When Grace had vanished before his eyes in the parking lot, he'd shouted and called her name. He half-transformed into a werewolf, further tearing his clothes, and sniffed the air, hoping to find some clue as to her whereabouts. The trail of her scent stopped as abruptly as her footprints in the light snow. When she did reappear, fainting, he'd rushed to her side, gently shaking her. He carried her to car and placed her in the passenger seat. Only then did Grace awaken. He tried to find out what had happened, where she'd been, but Grace claimed to have no memory of the incident. Sam could tell she wasn't being honest, but could not convince her to open up about it. So they drove home to Harmony in an awkward silence, different from the awkward silence that accompanied them on the drive that morning.

Now Sam had no choice but to go back to his old way of investigating the Eve and TC case, which was growing colder along with the season. There was other police business piling up for him, not to mention he was spending more time with his granddaughter.

The next full moon was approaching too, and Sam tried to hide his growing anxiety. He didn't know what to expect. At his computer at the police station, he typed into AskJeeves: "what happens to werewolf during full moon." He immediately began perusing the search results. Sam wasn't the most tech-savvy when it came to the internet and he was having a difficult time locating more than websites or blogs about fictional werewolves and the kind of lore that seemed to be ripped from the silver screen, rather than real-world cultures or mythologies.

He did find one message board that seemed promising. There, the posters sought solutions for full moon transformations. While some of the people posting obviously thought it was all a joke, others seemed to be taking the issue seriously. Some one wrote about how the night of the full moon is the one night in which a werewolf has no choice but to transform. Someone else described having a "safe room" she used on those nights, where she could lock herself securely to prevent any unintended harm. That seemed like a sensible move.

It was almost exactly one month since Sam was attacked by the wolf and become afflicted with this curse; the full moon was just one day away. Maybe the next night Ivy could lock him in the basement? They could ask Charity and Kay to spend the night over at Grace's to give them some alone time. Sam was about to scroll further through the message board when...

"Whatcha got there, chief?" Luis said, suddenly standing behind his superior. Sam had become so engrossed in his search, he hadn't noticed Luis approach. There was an image of a wolf accompanying one of the posts on his screen.

Sam flushed red. "I was thinking, uh, Harmony town council should consider updating its leash bylaws for dogs. Don't know how this stuff came up!" He laughed nervously and quickly closed the browser.

Luis looked puzzled. "But we just updated those bylaws last year..."

Sam shrugged. "It never hurts to stay ahead of the curve. Now what can I help you with?"

"Is everything OK, Sam? Me and the guys, we're worried about you. You haven't seemed like yourself at all lately. Not since you had to shoot that attacker."

Sam felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He'd hoped he was doing a good job hiding the changes in his life since then. There were definitely times when he looked a little more unkempt than people were used to — five o'clock shadow where previously he'd been totally clean cut, that sort of thing — but his distracted nature was becoming obvious too. He sometimes sat at his desk, staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought about what it meant that werewolves actually existed in the world. And that he was now one of them. He was prone to mood swings, too; it was like having the hormones of a teenager coursing through him all the time, and it meant he could at times explode with anger or become sullen if contradicted by Luis or Hank or any of the other officers.

"I... I'm sorry if I haven't been handling things well since then," he said, fumbling for the right words. "I'm not going to lie, it shook me up. But I feel like I'm getting better. Ivy has been a huge help."

"That's great, man," said Luis, patting Sam on the shoulder. "You know you can always talk to me if there's anything you need to get off your chest. I'm here for you."

Sam genuinely appreciated it.

"Y'know, tonight Beth and I are going to the Blue Note with Antonio and Sheridan. A double date of sorts. Why don't you and Ivy join us?"

Sam was immediately reminded of the dilapidated Blue Note he'd explored with Grace. He could still see the dust-filled room, the cobweb-covered stage. And then there was the poster of Eve. Eve Johnson... The poster had been reduced to nothing but ash when Grace reappeared in the parking lot, so they had no evidence to show for their time there. If that poster was even "evidence" of anything... Maybe he should talk to Julian, who'd built Harmony's Blue Note. There might be some information to be gleaned, _if_  he could find a time when Julian was sober.

Since the earthquake, Julian had been hitting the bottle pretty hard. Sam and his officers had looked into whether Julian might have had something to do with Alistair's disappearance, but they'd turned up nothing.

"Thanks Luis, maybe next time. Ivy and I actually have a date night of our own planned. We're going snowshoeing, out near Brown's Mountain." This wasn't just an excuse either. Ivy had proposed they get out of the house and do something active together — a physical activity they could share _besides_  sex. Ever since Ivy had regained the use of her legs, she wanted to take advantage of them. With all the early snow they'd received, this seemed like the perfect way to share an evening.

"Sure thing buddy," Luis said. "I'm heading out now. Don't fall down another leash law wormhole." He winked.

Sam powered down his computer and grabbed his coat. Luis was right, Sam needed to get out of the office. Before long, he and Ivy were in their parkas, snowshoes stored in the back seat of Sam's car. Brown's Mountain — really, it was more like a very big hill — was surrounded by forest and fields just outside of Harmony. The perfect location for a moonlit trek. The sky was clear and their breath floated up in big white clouds as they walked through the snow.

"This is lovely, Sam. I couldn't have asked for a better date night."

He smiled back at her. Beamed, really. Ivy was so attractive and had become so sweet in recent months. For ages he had resented her, had despised the aristocratic bitch she'd become. Now that she and Julian were no longer together, and after such humbling experiences as losing the ability to walk for almost a year, Sam had rediscovered his high school sweetheart.

But the longer they walked, the more Sam began to feel uncomfortable. Physically uncomfortable, like he was overheating under his parka. First he unzipped the front, then he took it off altogether, but nothing helped.

"Is everything ok?" Ivy looked concerned.

Overhead, the moon was like a floodlight over the field, illuminating the stress on Sam's face.

"Ivy..." he groaned, doubling over. "I don't known what's wrong with me. It's not a full moon yet. That's still a day away."

He could feel the fur growing all over him now. His back and shoulders were expanding and broadening, and his teeth were becoming fangs.

Fear swept through Ivy. Sam had been demonstrating more control over his changes ever since that night when he first transformed in her presence without intending to. But while on that night his appearance had been the only change, tonight felt different. There was something about his personality, about his being, that was transforming. The look in his eyes was wild and furious. Bloodthirsty.

"Run," he growled. "Please. Ivy. RUN." He barked that last word.

She didn't have to be told a third time. She began rushing along the path they'd come, retreading their footprints, but the snowshoes were awkward and ungainly. "Fuck!" she cried, falling. No sooner had she rolled onto her back then Sam was looming over her. He had the head of a wolf, saliva dripping from his snout. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. Sam snapped his jaws at her, pulling himself back at the very last minute. She could see he was struggling to get the wolf in him under control. She tried to stand but her legs were like jelly.

"S-S-Sam, don't hurt me. I know you're in there."

He turned his back to her and covered his head with his arms. He let out a guttural sound that was both human and animal simultaneously. He trembled as if ready to explode, as if he was a dam struggling to hold back a wall of water. Ivy managed to get to her feet. She inched towards him. He was sitting on his haunches now, arms still covering his head.

"It's OK," she said, touching his furry shoulder.

In an instant, with the speed and ferocity of a cobra's strike, Sam whirled around and raked one clawed hand across Ivy's face. The force was so powerful it threw Ivy back to the ground, blood spattering the snow around her. Sam howled in tormented agony at the almost-full moon. Had he continued reading just a bit more of that message board today, he would have learned that new werewolves are particularly vulnerable to uncontrolled changes on the night immediately preceding a full moon.

The trauma of the blow had knocked Ivy unconscious. The scent of blood was strong and telling Sam to feed, but the human part of him rose up and overpowered the wolf. He shook himself fervently, like a dog trying to dry off, and he managed to snap out of it. He became mostly human again, and was aghast at what he'd done to his beloved. Ivy's face had four deep slash marks across it; bloody grooves that sliced through her cheek and lips and nearly severed her nose. She was lucky not to have lost an eye. Sam grabbed her.

"Don't die on me, Ivy," he begged, immediately bounding off in the direction they'd come. This became a refrain he repeated the whole way back to the car, and then the entire drive to the hospital. In the panic at the emergency room, as Ivy was whisked off into the trauma ward for surgery, no one suspected Sam was responsible for the injury. No one questioned his explanation that a lynx had attacked her. No one even thought to ask why Sam wasn't wearing a shirt under the parka he'd arrived in. Some of these questions or concerns might have been raised in another town, but Sam was chief of police. When an officer — _his brother_ — arrived to take a statement, it was purely a formality. Hank was really there to comfort Sam and join him in praying that Ivy lived to see another day...


	17. Chapter 17

Ivy was dreaming of Sam. They were both teenagers again, lying naked on a blanket in a field. The tall grass shielded them from unwanted stares. Her father would be furious if word got back to him about what they had been doing. Sam was on his side, propping himself up with one arm. She traced a finger from his shoulder to chest to belly button to pubic hair, finally settling on his erect member. She shuddered with pleasure just to touch it, and he leaned towards her, putting his hand between her legs, feeling the moisture there and gently moving his fingers up and down along her clitoris. 

"Stop," she whispered. "I don't think I'm going to be able to resist if you keep that up..." They still had not yet made love, although both knew it was inevitable. Sam reluctantly agreed, although he was still smiling. So sweet. So handsome. His face, still boyish and yet now that of a young man. He stood up, penis still hard, and slipped into the tall grass. It was so much taller than Ivy had realized. The grass was probably two feet over Sam's head. 

"Where are you going?" she asked. Sam didn't reply, just continued to smile suggestively as he disappeared from sight. She followed. "Come back," she said, trying to sound playful but unable to mask the fear that was creeping into her voice. She couldn't find him. "This isn't funny, Sam. Come out right now or I'm going home." 

Dark clouds were building up in the sky. A wind rustled the grass around her and she was dismayed to find herself disoriented and unable to locate the blanket and their clothes. "Sam!" Now she was panicking. And there was a new sound, something more than just the wind in the grass. She started running and the sound followed, keeping pace. It was footsteps, and they did not belong to her lover. She raced faster in what she hoped was the direction of the road — even naked, she would rather be out in the open than trapped in here with...

And then she was suddenly face to face with a wolf. A wolf the size of a bull! It's eyes blazed red and it snarled, raising a razor-tipped paw to the air and she screamed in terror. 

"Ivy," a voice said softly. "Ivy it's OK. Can you hear me?"

She was in now darkness now. It had been a dream. Slowly she opened her eyes. Actually, only one eyelid lifted. Her vision was blurred. A face leaned over her. Was it Sam? Slowly it came into focus. 

Grace. What was she doing there? 

Ivy's head was covered in bandages, including her right eye. She lifted a hand weakly. "Sam?" she whispered. 

"He's just gone home to have a shower, but he's going to come right back. I'll get the nurse."

Ivy shook her head. The motion pained her. It caused a searing sensation across her skin like acid. She thought of her daughter, Pretty, and her heart skipped a beat. She thought about Pretty's disfigurement. A tear welled up in her one visible eye. Grace came with a tissue and dried Ivy's cheek. 

"It's going to be OK. You're lucky to be alive. Do you remember what happened?"

Ivy wished she didn't. She wished she could black it out forever. The hideous form Sam had taken on. His lips pulled back in a snarl, saliva dripping from his fangs. Not knowing what to say, she lied and shook her head 'no'. Again, the stinging under her bandages was unbearable. 

"You were attacked by a lynx. It came out of the woods while you and Sam were snowshoeing. It crept up on you both and pounced. It must have gone for you because you were a smaller target. Sam had to wrestle it off you." The memory was so visceral, Ivy would practically feel Sam's claws tearing her flesh all over again. His claws. A surge of panic went through her as she thought about the full moon. Sam would have even less control over his transformation. 

"What day is it?" Ivy asked, almost frantic. Grace told her. Four days had passed. The full moon was gone for another month. She raised a trembling hand to her bandages and wondered if someone else had not be quite so "lucky"...

Grace, for her part, wanted to ask Ivy about Eve and Julian. Grace was genuinely worried about her rival, but even more so had been afraid that if Ivy died, she might take with her any possible knowledge of her ex-husband's past with Eve. But Grace couldn't bring it up now. Not yet. She put a hand on Ivy's. 

"I'm going to get the nurse." 

This time, Ivy did not resist. She closed her left eye and tried to steady her breathing. Another tear was trickling down her unbandaged cheek.


	18. Chapter 18

“Sam!” Ivy screamed from upstairs. “Sam! I thought you said you got rid of them all!”

There was a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass echoing throughout the house. Sam came running immediately. He found Ivy standing in the hallway over a broken mirror. Her hands were trembling.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry! I thought I took care of this one. It must have slipped my mind.”

Before returning home from the hospital, Ivy had asked Sam to get rid of all the mirrors in the house. She couldn’t bear the side the sight of her slashed face. No matter how many times he told her she was beautiful, all she could think was: Frankenstein. It wouldn’t be until the early. months of 2004 that her stitches could finally be removed, and that wouldn’t change the hideous slashes, the grooves carved in her forehead, cheek, nose, and mouth. She tended to keep her face wrapped in an excessive amount of cotton bandages, hiding any trace of the injury. Any trace of _her_.

Sam had obliged and removed all the mirrors, even the large ones mounted in the bathrooms — which Kay had protested loudly. With Tabitha’s help, she successfully performed her very first materialization spell and caused the upstairs hallway mirror to reappear after Sam had taken it away. However, she wasn’t there now to see the fruits of her labours. She was currently at Tabitha’s with Miguel, trying to keep her Charity from uncovering their secret…

“Are you OK?” Sam asked, checking Ivy’s hands to make sure she hadn’t been cut.

“I’m fine,” she said, coldly. Her tone of voice, not her appearance, clearly pained Sam though and so she softened. She wanted to lean her face against his chest but knew the hurt would be excruciating. “I’m sorry for doing that. I’m behaving like a spoiled child.”

“No you’re not. You have every right to behave however you want.” He knelt and began gathering the pieces into a pile. She was about to help him but just being near those shards of mirror, the thought of catching her reflection inadvertently, caused her to draw back.

“Seven years bad luck,” she mused. “I don’t suppose my luck could get any worse though.”

Sam didn’t know what to say, so he kissed her, his lips mostly touching bandages.

The night after Ivy’s injury, the night of the full moon, he had driven himself as far into the countryside as possible, hoping to get as far from other humans as he could before his transformation took hold. His memory of the night was spotty at best. He awoke the next morning, shivering on the ground outside his car. A normal man would have died from exposure, or at the very least suffered serious frost bite, but Sam was alright, despite his mostly tattered clothes.

He’d returned to Harmony immediately and spent the coming days by Ivy’s side in the hospital, hoping and praying she pulled through. Grace and Pilar and others had all come by to check on them. Ethan and Fox were in L.A. but both vowed to come back to Harmony right away. However, when Ivy awoke from unconsciousness and learned that her sons were coming back to be with her, she insisted they wait until Christmas, as originally planned. She wanted to have the next three weeks to rest and recover on her own.

When the mirror had been swept up, Sam joined Ivy in their bedroom, where she had gone to lie down. Although her one visible eyes was closed, he could tell she wasn’t actually sleeping. He gingerly placed a hand on her stomach.

“How are you doing, Ivy?” he said softly.

“I’m not made of porcelain, Sam. You should know that by now.”

“I just… I just don’t know what to say to you. I am so, so, _so_ sorry. I—”

“Sam! Please! You’ve apologized a million times. And I’ve forgiven you a million times. It’s not going to change a thing. It’s not going to give me my face back. It’s not going to make me—” She stopped herself, coming close to saying something she didn’t actually mean. She almost claimed to not love him anymore, but she knew that was not true. Sam hadn’t attacked her, it was the werewolf he’d become. It might as well have been a lynx, and so she said as much. “I don’t blame you. I don’t think of you as the one who did this.”

He didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

“What’s most important, Sam, is that we find a way to prevent this from happening again. Not just to me, but to anyone. How can we contain you on the nights when the moon is full or almost full?”

Sam’s whole life he had prided himself on his self-control. His restraint. A lifetime of discipline had allowed him to bury parts of himself, to resist emotions he deemed wrong or destructive. And yet now this affliction left him with no will of his own, at least for one night every month or so. Two or three if the nights on either side of the full moon meant he was unable to stop himself from transforming then too. Transforming and brutally attacking even the woman he loved…

“Chains,” he said finally.

“Excuse me?”

“Chains. I need to chain myself up whenever there’s a full moon. We can do it in the basement. I could even sound proof a room down there. No one but you would know I’m there.”

This didn’t sound like a terrible idea to Ivy. She knew Sam had the construction skills to make a little prison out of his basement. In theory they should be able to make it work. Ivy could then find a way to ensure that Kay, Jessica, and Charity stayed away from the basement on those nights. Maybe even from the house entirely if she could manage it…

Ivy nodded.

“That sounds good to me. I’ll go with you to the hardware store to pick up some chains. Although maybe we should go to a store outside of Harmony,” she added hastily. “We don’t want anyone to see the strange purchases and start asking questions.”

Sam agreed, no knowing the real reason for Ivy’s out-of-town suggestion was that she couldn’t stand the thought of running into anyone she knew. She didn’t want to be recognized and gawked at by the townspeople. There had been enough schadenfreude from Harmony’s citizens when Julian divorced her; suddenly “Poison Ivy” had lost her wealth and power, and people couldn’t wait to smugly hold it over her head. They’d feel even more superior now that she had been mutilated by a wild animal.

The phone rang from the bedside table. Sam answered it. His eyes widened.

“Oh! Hello Pretty. How are you? … Yes, your mother’s right here.” He held the phone out towards Ivy, who sat up in bed. If she’d had more time to think about it, she would have communicated to Sam that she wasn’t ready to talk to her youngest child right now.  Anyone but her.

“Hello mother,” Pretty said.

Ivy could already feel tears welling in her good eye. Sam gently rubbed her back. Ivy had expected Pretty’s tone to be cold, calculating. Or maybe to contain a hint of glee. When Pretty had been horribly disfigured from an acid attack by her sister, Ivy could barely stand to look at her. She had wept for her daughter, who everyone agreed had been the most attractive of all the Crane/Winthrop children, had promised her the best hospitals and plastic surgeons and therapists that money could buy. But Ivy had found it impossible to look at Pretty again. When Pretty’s bandages were removed for the first time, Ivy’s eyes had widened. A wave of sickness had washed over her and suddenly Ivy was throwing up into a nearby garbage can. Julian had looked equally stricken, pulling the flask from his suit jacket and taking a long swig to steady his nerves.

Pretty was transferred to a private hospital in Rio de Janeiro, home to the best plastic surgeons in the world. When the doctors had done all they could for her, she’d chosen to continue living in Brazil at an estate owned by her grandfather. Ivy had sent one of their hired men to check up on her in secret, to report back how she was doing. Pretty was mostly continuing to live the rich life of an American socialite overseas, but she always wore a veil that obscured her face. _“But how is she looking?”_ Ivy had wanted to know. The man looked so grave upon being asked this question, and seemed so nervous in finding the right words to use in response, that Ivy felt her own anxiety — bordering on nausea — rising and she ultimately stopped him from saying anything more.

Ivy had not seen Pretty in years, which is why she expected malice when she took her daughter’s phone call. But Pretty’s voice was soft and sympathetic.

“Mother, I’m coming home for Christmas.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Mom, can I talk to you?”

Grace looked up. She’d been online for hours, trying to vane to find some way of accessing old medical records at Boston area hospitals. Reese and others made it look so easy; it seemed like they could hack into any computer, any database or website and pluck out the desired information without any real trouble. Grace couldn’t bring herself to enlist a friend of her children in the search for details about Eve and the bastard child she’d had before coming to Harmony and meeting TC. She was running out of options though.

She’d tried repeatedly to speak with Julian but to no avail. She learned from Beth — who, as owner of the Book Café, was always a reliable source for local goings-on — that Julian’s months-long bender had reached the point at which he seldom left the Crane mansion. Rebecca stood in the way of Grace contacting him.

 _“My Pookie doesn’t need to find God or whatever it is you’re peddling,”_ she’d said when Grace phoned to speak with him.

 _“I’m not trying to ‘save’ him,”_ Grace had insisted angrily. _“I need to speak with him about Eve.”_

 _“_ That _tramp? Good riddance to bad rubbish! Julian doesn’t care to speak about Eve Russell. He’s glad to have her out of his life.”_

Out of his life? The way Rebecca was referring to Eve and Julian only confirmed there was more to that relationship than had ever been public knowledge. Rebecca seemed to sense she might have said too much. There was silence on her end of the line, then, abruptly: _“Anyway Grace, dear, I really must be going. Gwen is coming home soon with my granddaughter and I have a lot to do in preparation for their Christmas visit. Well, a lot of supervising the hired help. Tah tah!”_

Click.

Grace should have known better than to ask Rebecca for help. But with Ethan, Gwen, Fox, and Theresa all across the country and Pilar no longer working at the Crane mansion, Grace didn’t know how she could gain access to Julian.

“Mom! You’re not even listening.”

Grace’s attention snapped back to John.

“I’m so sorry John. Too many hours spent looking at the computer screen. I spaced out. What did you want to talk to me about?”

John ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He was clearly annoyed. Grace stood up from the computer and reached out, apologetically, intending to hug him but he brushed her hands away.

“Never mind,” he said, turning to leave.

“John, wait.” She followed him from the den into the front hallway. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

He grumbled something. He turned to face her. There was a hurt in his eyes, and not just because she hadn’t been paying attention to him. He was clearly conflicted about whether or not he could trust Grace with his feelings. She had suspected that it was about Simone; they spent so much time together, and although Grace used to think Simone had unrequited feelings for her son, she now wondered if maybe John had started to reciprocate those feelings. What was the problem though?

“It’s…” He hesitated. “It’s not important. What’s new with you?”

Grace didn’t want to say too much, given her John’s closeness with Simone, but she also felt it was important to say _something_. She had to prove she wasn’t shutting him out completely.

“I’ve been trying to reach Julian. I need to ask him something important, but I have no way into the Crane Mansion. Rebecca won’t let me in to meet with him and no one from Crane industries is ever willing to transfer my calls to him. I don’t even know if he’s been working since.. since the earthquake.”

“Pilar could help you get in there!”

“She doesn’t work for the Cranes anymore. Rebecca fired her when she married Julian.”

“No no, she knows other ways into the mansion. After so many years there as the head housekeeper, Pilar knows just about every nook and cranny and passageway on the entire estate.”

Grace’s eyes lit up.

“I remember once, Pilar told me about a tunnel that runs under the tennis courts and off the property. I can’t remember where it ends but I’m pretty sure that Alistair and Julian used it when they need to sneak off the Crane grounds without being seen.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn those men had an escape route built specially for them,” said Grace. “Why did Pilar tell you a thing like that? When would you two have been talking?”

The questions caught John off guard. There wasn’t anything accusatory or suspicious in Grace’s tone, she was just genuinely puzzled. He looked flustered for half a second, then said she told him once when he was visiting Miguel. He said it might have been just after she was fired, maybe she had said it in a moment of anger, revealing something about her ex-employers that she probably shouldn’t have.

Grace thanked John for his idea. In a matter of minutes she was driving over to the Lopez-Fitzgerald household. As she hurried up the snowy walkway, the front door flew opened and out came Charity. She looked upset.

“Charity? What’s wrong?”

“Not now Aunt Grace. I just want to be alone.” Grace was totally bewildered, but things seemed to make a bit more sense when Miguel emerged from the house seconds later. He was struggling to get on his boots as he went. Miguel had put on weight recently and still seemed to be adjusting to his new gut, reaching around it to tug at his laces, then giving up on them entirely. He called after Charity, asking her to slow down as she sped down the sidewalk away from the house. Grace new Charity and Miguel were having difficulties, but her niece had been scant on details.

‘Charity… John… I’m letting down the children in my life, not to mention I almost never see Kay or Jessica. Or Noah.’ There was a heaviness in Grace’s heart, and she almost felt like abandoning her pursuit of answers relating to Eve and TC’s disappearance.

Then Pilar appeared in the open doorway, and Grace’s resolve was restored. Pilar was surprised to see her but welcomed her in. She had no answers either as to the state of Miguel’s relationship with Charity. As they sat over tea in the kitchen — the very spot where Pilar and Theresa had sat back in July, when the earthquake struck — Pilar described the distance she was feeling from all of her children. Miguel had been behaving strangely for months, including the overeating and the weight gain, which were so unlike him. She was feuding with Sheridan about the way she was jeopardizing Antonio’s health with her dalliances with Luis; this was causing Luis to become distant from his mother. Theresa, meanwhile, was across the country in LA. And then there was Paloma, who had taken to ignoring her phone calls. It seemed her children were all growing further from her and she was powerless to stop them.

Grace could empathize. She shared with Pilar her own feelings of maternal shortcoming.

“I feel especially bad about John,” Grace said, not noticing that Pilar became instantly uncomfortable the moment she mentioned his name. “We have so much catching up to do as mother and son, there is so much I want to know about him. For a while it felt like we were really bonding, but for months now — even before the earthquake — it’s felt like he’s hiding something from me. I want to know, but any time I inquire, he makes me feel like I’m snooping or something.”

“Well Grace, I guess it is important to remember that John’s an adult. I know that’s something I have to remind myself about Miguel and Paloma. It’s hard to believe but they’re all grown up now…”

“I know they’re technically grown up, but in so many ways, don’t they all just still feel like kids to you? It feels like yesterday Kay and Miguel were playing dress-up in the backyard. Now they have a child together! Maybe it’s the fact that I missed out on John’s childhood. I can’t help but feel like he’s still a little boy in need of a mother, you know?”

Pilar shifted awkwardly in her chair.

“What brought you over here today, Grace? I didn’t even ask when you first arrived.”

“That’s right, I’m so sorry for taking up as much of your time as I have already.”

“Nonsense,” said Pilar. “We should make time for this more often. We have always had so much in common.”

“More than just our kids.”

Pilar forced a smile.

“But anyway!” Grace shook her head and got back down to business. “I was hoping you could help me with something…”


	20. Chapter 20

Grace knew that Pilar was a pious woman. Both were Christians with resolute faith in God, but Grace worried that Pilar would be unable to accept some of the things she had experienced — mainly that Eve and TC had been transported not only back in time but to an alternate plane, a identical but separate dimension. The Bible said nothing about any of this and so Grace decided not to either. She kept her explanation as vague and direct as possible: she needed to talk to Julian about Eve and TC’s disappearance. Grace said she’d recently gained some possible insights into the case, but wasn’t prepared to share them with Sam yet.

Pilar said she was willing to do anything if it might help to bring Eve and TC back. She told Grace what she’d already heard from John: that Alistair and Julian had a secret tunnel leading to and from the Crane estate. Pilar left the kitchen momentarily and returned with her old housekeeping uniform. “You should wear this. There’s been so much turn-over among the staff since the new Mrs. Julian Crane came into her full powers, chances are no one you run into will know you aren’t new.”

‘Just so long as I don’t run into Rebecca…’ Grace had thought nervously.

Pilar offered to take Grace to the entrance/exit, but didn't know how to open it. Grace insisted she’d find a way; she didn't want Pilar to potentially get in trouble for showing it to her, in the likely event there were security cameras in the vicinity. So instead, Pilar wrote down a clear set of directions. Grace changed into Pilar’s old uniform. They hugged goodbye and Grace set out into the snowy December afternoon.

The entrance/exit in question was beneath an old bridge on the east end of town. Grace gingerly made her way down the icy embankment and along the narrow ledge between the riverbank and the dark, rushing waters under the bridge. Large pieces of ice flowed past her as she inched closer and closer to a tiny alcove in the bridge’s brick foundation. One wrong step and she was as good as dead.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was there, up against the door. It had no handle. No lock or security keypad. How was anyone supposed to get in there? She took off her gloves and felt around the wall, hoping to find a loose brick or something that would trigger a secret switch. After fifteen minutes of searching in vane, her fingers were getting cold and the fading afternoon light meant it was quickly getting dark beneath the bridge. If she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be able to see the ledge…

“C’mon,” she whispered, her breath clouding in front of her like smoke. She placed both hands on the door now and concentrated. “Open… Open… Open…” Light began glowing between her palms and the door. She watched in awe as the light traced the outer edges of the door. Then there was a sound as loud and sudden as a gunshot. She nearly lost her balance and fell backwards into the river. However, the door fell in the opposite direction, tipping backwards like a felled tree. It crashed against the floor of the tunnel with a clanging, metallic crash that was even louder. Grace’s heart was pounding in her ears. She stepped forward timidly at first, half expecting spikes to come shooting out of the walls at her. The tunnel was lit overhead and, just as Pilar had described it, she could see there were corridors branching off it. _“Just keep going straight_ , _”_ Pilar had instructed. _“The central tunnel is the one you want to focus on. I don’t know where the others lead, but the main one will take you straight to the Crane Mansion’s wine cellar.”_

Grace followed Pilar’s directions, though the temptation to veer off and explore one of the other passageways was certainly tempting. Just where else in Harmony did the Cranes have access through this secret system?

Inside the mansion, Grace realized the full extent of the challenge that lay ahead of her. She’d visited mansion before — in 2001, when a strange fog descended on a party at the mansion, she’d awoken from a vision of Sam and Ivy locked in a passionate embrace. When she rushed to the mansion, sure enough, the former lovers were kissing. The ensuing drama was all Grace could remember from the mansion that night. Certainly she had no sense of where to begin looking for Julian.

“I’ve got to start somewhere,” she said to herself, and proceeded to make her way down the nearest hallway, peeking into doors as she went.

Billiards room. Indoor pool. Bedroom. Bedroom. Library. Storage closet. Salon.

She opened the next door a crack and found another empty bedroom, only to suddenly feel a hand on her shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” a voice demanded.

Grace whirled around, her heart racing. A young woman in a similar uniform was standing with her arms crossed and her brow knitted into a suspicious frown.

“I…” Grace could feel herself sweating. “I'm supposed to speak with Julian.”

“Well you’re not going to find _Mr. Crane_ in one of the guest suites. He’s in his study. He’s been there all day.”

“Yes,” Grace nodded. “I just can’t.. This is embarrassing, but I can’t remember where Jul— Mr. Crane’s study is.”

The woman surveyed her a moment.

“I’m new,” Grace added, certain that her cover had been blown.

Now the maid seemed to relax a bit. She smiled sympathetically.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m still pretty new myself. I’m always forgetting where everything is. Mr. Crane’s study is on the second floor. Take the first left and then it’s the set of doors on the right. Do you want me to take you there?”

“Oh no, that’s ok! I can get there. Thank you!”

Grace hurried off, not wanting to spend one second longer with the maid, lest she say something else that might expose her. When she arrived outside the study, she could hear Julian’s voice inside talking to someone.

“What if it’s Rebecca?” she wondered aloud, cursing her poor timing. However, she then heard footsteps from the down the hall. She’d just have to take a chance. Without knocking, she turned the handle and pushed open the heavy mahogany doors, rushing inside before she could be seen.

Julian’s talking did not stop. Grace leaned back against the doors, catching her breath. He was sitting at the desk, perhaps on a conference call?

“Julian?” she said, locking the doors behind her and stepping towards him. “We need to talk.”

He looked up, only half surprised to see her. She quickly realized that not only was he drunk, but he’d been talking to himself, babbling on only semi-coherent.

“Missus Samuel Bennett?” he slurred, fixing his gaze on her.

“Mrs. David Hastings,” she corrected. “Julian, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

“Code red down at the ol’ firestation?”

She wanted to shake some sense into him. She want to yell, but she knew that would draw unwanted attention. Instead she said, “It’s about Eve.”

At this his eyes widened. He seemed — at least temporarily — to snap to attention.

“What do you know about Eve? Where is she?”

“I know where Eve is,” Grace said. “She’s trapped in a parallel dimension. I don’t care how crazy that sounds, it’s the truth.”

Since leaving Pilar’s, Grace had been running through possible scenarios in her mind. What would she say to Julian? She’d concocted an elaborate series of explanations, but in the end, Grace was just not a natural liar. Without thinking it through, she spoke the truth.

“Something happened when the earthquake hit. Something opened up between dimensions and Eve and TC fell through. They’ve gone back in time about 30 years and they don’t know how to get out again. Eve said she doesn't think it's time travel in the conventional sense, but she couldn't give me a full explanation of the theory.”

Julian refilled his glass from a crystal decanter.

“And I thought _I’d_ had one too many of these!”

“I’m serious Julian. I was able to reach her there. I went to Boston and I found a talisman from her past, and I used it as a.. a key. A key into the past, or to where Eve is."

“Talisman? A book by Stephen King, isn’t it? Wasn’t one of his better ones if I remember correctly, but then again I was always more of a _Carrie_ man myself. Sort of like that sexy blond niece of yours.”

Grace slapped him swiftly.

“Listen to me, Julian, I don’t have time to play games with you. I know that you and Eve were lovers once. I know that you had a son together.”

Now he was definitely listening.

“Tell me about your relationship with Eve. Maybe there’s something about her past life, her life before we became friends here in Harmony, that I can use to travel back there again. Something that I can use to find her and bring her and TC back with me this time.”

“You’re actually serious?” He took a swig from his glass. “I don’t know how you found all this out but, yes. Eve and I were lovers. We were very much in love. We are.. or at least _I_ am still very much in love with her. I never stopped. Not while I was with Ivy, not with Theresa, not with Rebecca… I’ve always loved Eve.” He seemed to be drifting into a drunken reverie, lost in his memories. “I fell in love with her the moment I first heard her singing at the Blue Note. We had a connection like no one else. Soul mates.”

“What happened to you two?”

“We were reckless. We were young and stupid and got caught up in the party life. Cocaine. Acid. Booze. A lot of booze.” He finished his drink and poured another. Grace tried to stop him, but he jerked away from her and filled his tumbler almost to the very top. “We had a child together and were going to settle down. Stop the partying, stop being so wild and crazy. Eve gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. However, my father—” (he spat the word with utter contempt) “—didn’t approve of his son being in a relationship with a black woman. Having a black child. No, my father would stop at nothing to keep from having _that_ ‘pollute’ the Crane family.”

Grace shivered. She knew Alistair was evil, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“My father had our son kidnapped. I've always been certain it was father's doing.” He took another swig and stared off into space. “We tried to find him but hit road blocks. I fell to pieces pretty quickly. Started back on the drugs and alcohol to console myself. I was useless. Useless!” He angrily threw his glass against the wall. There were tears in his eyes now. “If I had been stronger, maybe we might have found our son. Eve could never forgive me. I could never forgive myself…” He reached for the decanter to pour another drink, spilling the whiskey all over his hand as though he’d forgotten he just smashed the glass. He looked stupidly at the mess he’d made on his desk and then lifted the decanter to his lips and drank from it directly.

“Julian please, you have to get it together. Where are some of the places you and Eve spent time together, other than the original Blue Note? I’ve already been there.”

He waved at her dismissively. “I’m surprised (hic) the original Blue Note is even still standing. All our (hic) old haunts are gone. Gone, gone, gone, like so much sand slipping through our fingers…” He poured whiskey into his palm and then watching it trickle through his grasp and onto the desktop.

There was a knock at the study’s door.

“Pooky, what’s going on in there? It’s dinner time and I want you downstairs with me right now. I am tired of dining alone. What’s the fun of having the wait staff standing at attention when there's no one else to enjoy it with?”

Grace looked panicked but Rebecca’s voice didn’t seem to register with Julian.

“Julian, please!” Grace pleaded. “I need you to tell me more. Do you have any objects from your time with Eve? Anything that I might be able to use as another talisman? I’m only just beginning to learn how to use my powers, but perhaps if there’s something physical I can take with me tonight, something that represents the bond you and Eve shared then maybe it can help me to reach her again in the past.”

“Julian! Who are you with in there?! Let me in or I’m getting Armando to break down this door!”

Julian was only half-hearing both of them.

“My bond with Eve…” he said to himself, wistfully. “Not the past… The present…”

“I know, but please Julian, focus! Do you have any love letters? Any jewelry or photographs or—”

Now there was a loud pounding on the door. Someone was ramming into it.

“Our bond… Our son is our bond. Our greatest bond…”

He was barely conscious now. His head slumping forward, chin practically on his chest.

Their son! Grace suddenly remembered something Eve had told her in that parking lot. Something that completely escaped her memory until now.

 _"Vincent Clarkson. That's his adoptive name,”_ Eve had said. _“If I don't make it back to our time, I need you to promise me you'll find him and reconnect him with Julian. Tell him he was loved at birth and this wasn't our fault."_

“Julian!” Grace tried shaking him now. “Julian, I know the name of your son!”

“Pooky! Who do you have in there? What hussy have you brought into our loving, monogamous home??” And then an inaudible muffled sound from the other side of the door as Rebecca told Armando to put on a shirt. “Open this door right now!”

Julian fell forward onto the desk, snoring deeply. The study’s double doors were rattling, beginning to splitter at the point where they locked together.

Grace snatched a pen and paper from a part of the desk that wasn’t soaked in whiskey.

**_Julian — Your son’s name is Vincent Clarkson_ **

That was all she could manage to scribble before the doors flew open. She shoved the note under some other papers and whirled around to face Rebecca and a handsome young, muscular man in bare feet and a half-buttoned shirt.

“Grace Bennett!” Rebecca gasped in her high-pitched voice. “Why I never! And to be playing dress-up with _my_ Pooky!”

“I’d rather die,” Grace said flatly.

“What do you think you’re doing here? How did you even get in?”

“I had something important to speak with Julian about,” Grace said, ignoring the second question. “However, he’s clearly in no fit state to speak to anyone.”

Rebecca scowled.

“Armando is head of Crane security,” she said finally. “And he’s going to escort you off the premises. You can go quietly or you can go kicking and screaming.” Armando stepped around the desk and clamped a hand on Grace’s shoulder.

“I’m leaving Rebecca. No kicking or screaming necessary.”

“Good. Because that’s _our_ thing, isn’t it Armando?” She and Armando smiled at each other. Grace rolled her eyes.

As Armando led her out of the room she glanced back at the Julian and the desk. If this was the new normal for him, would he ever even find her note about Vincent?

For now, all she could do was hope…


	21. Chapter 21

“Pretty, I can’t thank you enough for coming home to see me in my hour of need,” said Ivy as she adjusted her facial bandages in the mirror. It felt strange to be at the Crane Mansion, but she was there visiting her daughter. It was remarkable how much it still felt like home, even though she had a new home — a new life — with Sam.

“Of course mother,” said Pretty from behind a hat, a scarf, and a large pair of sunglasses. Nothing of her face was visible. “When I heard the news I had to come home and show my support however possible.”

“It must be nice to be home after so long,” said Ivy. “A lot has surely changed.”

Pretty looked out the window at the snowy, Christmas scene outside the mansion. There was a full moon climbing in the sky, casting its silvery light over the town.

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell. This place has never really felt like home to me. Ethan, Fox, Fancy, and I spent so much time in boarding schools overseas, Harmony was always an afterthought. Well, maybe not for Ethan.”

“I suppose so,” Ivy said awkwardly. Ethan had been the obvious favourite. Julian and Alistair had been grooming him to one day take over Crane Industries. He came home frequently, especially since his childhood sweetheart, Gwen, was also from the east coast.

“I can’t help but wonder how different my life would have been if I’d grown up here.” Pretty traced a long, hot pink fingernail along a framed family photo on the mantel. “Maybe I would have been best friends with that woman who’s been obsessed with Ethan. Theresa, right? I should know this. She is mother to my little half-brother.”

Ivy scowled beneath her bandages. “I would not have wanted you befriending that tramp.”

Pretty just laughed though. “When I heard she and father had gotten married…” She held the Crane family photo in her hand. It wasn’t obvious, but Pretty was touching a finger to her own face beneath the glass. She looked radiant. All her siblings were attractive, but next to her they looked average at best.

“Everything would have been different,” she said more to herself than to Ivy. “I think about moving back often. Maybe I will. Sometimes I like to imagine that you kept me here, with you, and only Fancy had to live abroad. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to attack me…”

Ivy winced at the very mention of what had transpired between her daughters. “Now Pretty, we both know that the… pool incident… happened here.”

“I know, mother,” sighed Pretty. “I just like to imagine that if Fancy and I had grown up apart, maybe she would have appreciated me more. Instead of constantly putting me down. Competing with me over every boy that ever looked my way. She always managed to steal them. Until Harrison, at least. If I’d known what she was capable of, I would have told her have him...”

“Fancy is a vicious, vicious girl,” said Ivy. “I will never forgive her for what she did to you. Or forgive myself for letting one of my children turn out the way Fancy did.”

“Is it true she’s dating some European royal? I try not to read the gossip magazines. Not after the way they treated me.”

“Pretty…” Ivy put a hand on her daughter’s back. “I know we’ve had our disagreements over the years. I wish I had supported you more after the… accident. I look back on a lot of my behaviour from those years and wonder how it's possible I could be the way I was. Did you know that people in Harmony still think of me as—”

“Poison Ivy?” Pretty’s voice suggested a slight smile beneath her scarf. “I know mother. I have to admit, there were times when Fox, Fancy, and I used that term to describe you too. I’ve grown up a lot since then. I haven’t had a chance to see Fox yet, but maybe he has too.”

“He’s around somewhere. He’ll be coming to mass. We can share one of the limousines,” she said, forgetting momentarily that she was no longer the madame of the house.

“Is he seeing anyone these days?”

“I’m not sure. Whenever I talk to him on the phone he makes vague comments about some woman he’s been in love with all year, but he never says her name. I’m worried it might be Theresa. They were certainly quite buddy-buddy before going off to L.A.”

Pretty laughed. “I really must meet this Theresa woman. She sounds like she has a bit of a Crane fetish. Maybe she’ll ask me out on date.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. That woman’s obsession with the Crane name knows no boundaries.” The way she said it made it sound as though Theresa was so money hungry _even Pretty_ might be desirable. “That came out wrong.”

“No mother, it’s true. Takes a monster to love a monster, right?”

“You are _not_ a monster, Pretty. You’re my beautiful daughter. No matter what happens, I will always love you.”

“Takes a monster to love a monster…” Pretty repeated, unable to mask with humour the sadness in her voice.

“There was a time when I was willing to do monstrous things to get what I want,” Ivy said. She thought about David Hastings and the lie Grace was living. The lie her son John was living. “But I’m a good person now. At least, I try to be, every day.”

“I’m a good person, too,” Pretty said. “Honest.” Although Ivy couldn’t see it, there were tears behind her sunglasses.

Suddenly Ivy asked something she’d wanted to since first seeing Pretty again. “Can you… Can you show me?” Ivy had to see for herself. She needed to know the extent to which her daughter had suffered. She couldn’t explain why, but somehow she needed to know. Maybe to punish herself. To feel a guilt that would keep her from continuing to wallow in her own self pity. Or maybe, maybe it would turn out Pretty’s burns were actually much more minor than Ivy had been led to believe. Maybe their extent had been exaggerated. Maybe the burns would just be along the outer edge of her face, small enough to be covered by a lock of hair?

“I’ll show you mine if  you show me yours,” Pretty said, sounding composed again.

Ivy took a deep breath and nodded. She began to unwrap her bandages. At the same time, Pretty turned her back to Ivy and removed her hat. Then her sunglasses. And finally she began to unwind the silken scarf.

The air felt cool against Ivy’s slashed cheek, she was so used to being covered up. Pretty turned to face Ivy. The breath rushed from Ivy’s lungs as though she’d been punched in the gut. She tried to steady herself, tried to hide her shock. Pretty’s face…. It was even worse than Ivy could have imagined.

“You’re still my beautiful daughter,” she said, weakly. “My pretty, pretty daughter.”

In a series of motions so quick she might have been a magician, Pretty restored her mask. Ivy was still processing what she’d seen. Her own mask — the cotton bandages — piled in her hands.

“It could be worse, right?” Pretty said, tenderly touching the stitches that seeming held Ivy’s face together. She might have been talking about her burns, but Pretty was referring to her mother’s injuries, and Ivy knew it.

There was a knock at the study’s door.

“JUST A MINUTE,” Pretty said (roared) so firmly and exacting that the knocking stopped immediately. One of the maids was on the other side, and she timidly said their driver had arrived to take them to midnight mass.

When Ivy was once again bandaged up, they linked arms.

“The first time out in public is always the hardest,” said Pretty. “You’ll be ok. I promise.”

“Thank you, Pretty,” Ivy said humbly. “I can’t find the words to thank you.”

“Then find the words to tell me about your new man. Sam Bennett — I guess he’s not actually ‘new’ to you, though, is he?”

Ivy smiled for the first time that night. “No,” she said. “Quite the opposite. But he's still surprising me, all these years later...”


End file.
